I Have Always Depended on the Kindness of Internet Strangers

Greetings! Over the past weekend, I jetted to an island other than Paradise for an academic conference. It was my good fortune to be on a panel with academic blogging true believers. Historiann exchanged her rusty spurs for a series of fabulous sun dresses; Tenured Radical rabble roused among the virtual; the Madwoman with a Laptop proved once and for all that her authorial prowess was not dependent on channeling a dead canine; and the Woman Formally Known as Goose (WFKG) served as the most delightful of mistresses of ceremonies. The panel, in other words, was filled with the cool.

It came at the right moment for me – and, let’s be honest, it’s always about me in the end. I had been wondering for quite a bit of time what CoG’s future might be. It has been a bit like CoG was my child. Only ze dropped out of college and has been holding up in my basement sneaking joints and watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory. My participation forced CoG into the light of day and to rejoin society. It also marked a new step for this ol’ blog. It meant that I relinquished the last vestiges of pseudonymity and “owned” it professionally. For the first time something related to the blog will appear on my c.v. Here is an image from our panel:

I'll leave it to you to figure out which one of the others wore the silver jumpsuit. *cough* TR *cough*

I had to think hard about whether to let go of my Diana Prince alter ego. With Cheetah and Giganta on the prowl, one can never be too careful. Over time, however, my pseudonym had become harder and harder to maintain. The blog occupied an uncertain place as more people came to know of it. At some point, it became awkward that half of my friends knew of the blog and half did not. So, too, I always wondered if any academics at my usual conferences ever stumbled upon CoG.
I felt like I was in the blogging closet and all my star-spangled panties were hanging around me.
As it turns out, my anonymity could be purchased for a price. That price was a trip to an island with tremendous historical significance for Spanish and U.S. imperialism. Or maybe, even more cheaply, I was lured by the fact that the conference hotel promised Piña Coladas so good that Joan Crawford once proclaimed them more enjoyable than slapping Bette Davis in the face. On the latter I cannot say; however, having sampled the drink in question, I would say that if I were a Joan Crawford dragqueen, I would probably take the swing.^* I’m not sayin’, I’m just sayin’.

Let me tell you, too, that these blogging folks can be a persuasive crew. After a few drinks with Madwoman, TR, WFKG, and a delightful Yale postdoc, they convinced me to do things that I never imagined doing. No, not tequila shots via a congo line (although. . .). Rather, I opened a Twitter account.^** Man, what did they put in those drinks?

All and all, the conference required me to ask just what have we been up to on this blog since 2005? Anonymously complaining about bad behavior in academia can be as fun as slapping Bette Davis in the face (Or so I am told). It becomes much harder to write about your colleagues’ shenanigans, though, if they have you in their RSS feed. So, what can academic blogs do other than pointing out our foibles?

I found myself disarmed that so many conference participants approached me through the weekend to say they were surprised that I was part of the“Digital Humanities.” So was I. Given that I am more than a bit dense, I had never contemplated that CoG was a version of that. It was a bit like finding out that I had secret skills as a dentist that I performed only while sleepwalking. Of course, to make that analogy work for CoG, it would be like finding out I was a dentist who left people with gaping, bleeding gums thanks to my less than skillful orthodontics.

The conference made me reminisce about when the little bloggy started. Then again, I have always been prone to nostalgia. I am a professional historian after all. My blog began at a pretty low point in my personal and professional life. The truly loyal readers out there will remember that many of the early posts conveyed self pity deep bitterness my reflections on a remarkably acrimonious break up with somebody who was truth challenged. My tenuous (and not tenured) position in a poisonously contentious department in the middle of TexAss only compounded those woes. From its start, then, the blog always had a certain messiness that blurred the personal and professional in ways that did not make me as wise as Athena. Well, if the blog’s author is a bit of mess, why wouldn’t the blog be one too? The blog became really important to me to combat the personal and professional isolation that I felt in East Texas. I did not have many other gay folks with whom to hang or other Chicano/a historians with whom to chat. Thank the goddess that those times have past. I will always remember, though, and be really grateful for the generosity of bloggers like Helen the Felon, Dorian, Joe.My.God, Tornwordo, VUBOQ, and others who reached out through cold dark cyberspace to be kind. Some are now famous, some faded. Whatever the case, I’m not sure I ever properly thanked them.

Thinking about the blog and hanging out with cool bloggeres reminded me that I still love the genre after all these years. Blogging offers tantalizing opportunities for us to write frankly about things that we see transpiring both in our immediate contexts and in the larger media. That type of writing does not necessarily align with my professional publishing trajectory as a nineteenth-century historian, but it sure is fun. So much so, I just might dust off those old comic books once more. . .


* For the record, GayProf does not endorse such violence.
** For the record, Historiann does not endorse the tweeting.

Collegial is as Collegial Does

A few weeks ago, Dr. Crazy had a post about collegiality in academic departments. She suggested some pretty basic notions about how one should behave in such an environment. To crudely summarize, she suggests that collegiality involves no more than simply doing your job at its most basic level: teach, research, and serve to the best of one’s abilities as outlined in your contract.

I tend to agree with that assessment. Nonetheless, it strikes me that such a straightforward mandate still confuses many professors. So, allow me to provide a simple set of guidelines to help you gauge whether you are an ideal colleague or the professor everybody wishes would just die. Think about which of the following most closely resembles what you might say in these situations.

When it comes time to decide the course schedule for next semester:

Best: “I am willing to teach a mix of upper level and service-oriented courses. While I certainly have preferences about scheduling, I am willing to negotiated with my colleagues to insure that we have a wide distribution of classes throughout the day.”

Fair: “I have several courses that I teach over and over. They serve some basic requirements of the department.”

Bad: “I will only teach classes between the hours of nine and noon. Teaching a survey class is clearly beneath my intellectual talents. Besides, I have a political obligation to offer an incredibly narrow graduate course that only appeals to two students every year.”

Evil: “My class enrollment is by instructor permission only. That way I can make sure that only hot, fit students ever sign up. No fatties!”

When I take the last cup of coffee from the break room:

Best: “I always make a fresh pot of coffee for the next person.”

Fair: “I be sure to shut off the burner so that the whole office doesn’t fill with the smell of scorched coffee.”

Bad: “I demand the secretary make a new pot of coffee.”

Evil: “Coffee? I replaced all that with Postum^© years ago.”

When it comes to time for committee assignments to be made, I think:

Best: “Nobody likes service, but it is a necessary part of keeping any university operating. I will roll up my sleeves and serve on committees when needed.”

Good: “If I really care about a particular issue, I am willing to serve on a committee or two.”

Bad: “Gee, I would serve on some committees, but I think that my decision to have children means that I can neglect my basic duties for which I am paid. Selfish childless people can pick up my slack. After all, what else do they have to do with their empty lives?”

Evil: “I see every committee assignment as a stepping stone to be dean one day.”

My thinking about new hires is usually along the lines of:

Best: “I consider it a basic part of my job to advocate vigorously for new positions based on my particular intellectual training. Nonetheless, I also recognize that a diverse set of perspectives and coverage is required for a really solid academic department. Therefore, I am willing to yield on hiring decisions when other priorities are clear.”

Fair: “I will work really hard to hire people in my immediate field."

Bad: “If I didn’t get my way when a job position was conceived, I will do everything in my power to sabotage this search. It’s better to have a failed search than for other people to have won a new hire.”

Evil: “If a candidate wants this job, they better invite me to their hotel room during the campus visit.”

When Running a Meeting:

Best: “I have a clear agenda and will get you out of here in an hour.”

Fair: “The agenda is set, but everybody can speak their mind on whatever topic they desire. It’s fine with me if we have to spend the whole afternoon chatting.”

Bad: “Was there a meeting scheduled today?”

Evil: “Let me tell you what we already decided as a committee.”

When Attending a Meeting:

Best: “I did my due diligence and read any pre-circulated materials before I arrived. I listen attentively and will give my opinion based on a well reasoned argument about the best needs of the unit.”



Fair: “I didn’t really have time to read up on this particular issue. Still, I’ll go along with whatever the majority has to say.”

Bad: “I would have attended this meeting, but I needed to wash my cat.”

Evil: “I am only here to point out how much I really, really, really hate the chair of this meeting.”

When I find that I am in the minority on an issue facing the department:

Best: “I will voice my opinion and give my reasons for objecting. In the end, though, I must have faith in democracy.”

Fair: “I will withhold my opinion but then complain bitterly to colleagues over drinks later.”

Bad: “I take this decision very personally. It shows that there is a larger conspiracy at play to take away my power and agency!”

Evil: “I pack a gun.”

When advising students about what courses to take:

Best: “I emphasize the strengths of the department. I also take some time to consider the particular interests of the student and their own career ambitions. My goal is always to give a student the widest range of perspectives that we offer.”

Fair: “I am vaguely aware of what my colleagues teach, but, whatever. I guess that I wouldn’t actively dissuade a student from taking a class with another professor -- if that is what they really want to do.”

Bad: “I take the time to trash all the colleagues in my unit that I dislike. A student should leave my office knowing that my department is nothing but a snake pit of dissension filled with people who aren’t half as smart as I am.”

Evil: “I take the time to explain the power of the dark side of the force and invite the student to become my protégé. Together we can topple the department chair and rule together.”

When serving on a masters thesis or dissertation committee:

Best: “I read the entire thesis/dissertation. My goal is to provide strategies for the student to revise the work to the best of hir abilities.”



Fair: “I read the entire thesis/dissertation. My goal is to get this over with as soon as possible.”

Bad: “I read some of the thesis/dissertation. My goal is to show that I personally know a lot more about this particular topic than the student.”

Evil: “I plagiarized several chapters of this thesis/dissertation. Nonetheless, I will still vote to fail the student just because I can.”

During the summer:

Best: “I drink a lot.”

Fair: “I drink a lot.”

Bad: “I drink a lot.”

Evil: “I drink a lot.”

When a hardworking undergraduate student tells me that ze is applying for graduate school:

Best: “I am supportive and offer to write a letter. Still, I do provide a candid assessment of the job market and encourage the student to think about the time, energy, money and effort that goes into obtaining an advanced degree.”

Fair: “I write a letter of recommendation and wish the student well.”

Bad: “I write a letter of recommendation but also frighten the student with horror students about the academic world. I cite the Center of Gravitas as evidence of academia's moral bankruptcy.”

Evil: “I promise to write a letter of recommendation but never quite get around to it. I assure the student that, even if the job market is terrible, they will absolutely get a tenure-track job because they are the exception.”

When a colleague in my field publishes a book:

Best: “I buy and read it.”

Fair: “I send an e-mail of congratulations.”

Bad: “Do I have colleagues in my field?”

Evil: “I tell anyone who will listen that I would have written a much better version of that same book.”

When editing an academic journal:

Best: “My goal is to give authors clear and concise feedback as quickly as possible. No journal can accept everything submitted, but I work really hard to be fair and prompt. I understand that my authors often have tenure and/or promotion pressures. Any delay only harms their research agendas and makes my journal look unprofessional.”

Fair: “I farm out a lot of my duties and depend almost entirely on others’ opinions. Still, I aim for an initial turn around of six to eight weeks. After all, I have a basic competence in my job.”

Bad: “I decide that my journal will devote itself to publishing many, many ‘Special Editions’ so that I can reward all my friends by printing their articles. Others can submit manuscripts, but they really shouldn’t hold their breath.”

Evil: “I regularly sit on manuscripts for over a year and a half (or longer if I can!). When I do finally get around to making a decision, it’s usually a negative one. Heck, somebody has to teach these young scholars a cold hard lesson. If the author doesn’t like it, then they shouldn’t have bothered my prestigious journal with their pitiful article in the first place.”

My office:

Best: “Is a place where I work quietly.”

Fair: “Is a place where I meet students from time to time.”

Bad: “Is a place where I can really turn up the volume on my music.”

Evil: “Smells suspiciously of sulphur.”

When a colleague in my field comes up for tenure:

Best: “I diligently read as much of the file as possible. During the meeting, I aim to make sure that every candidate gets a fair hearing by offering well informed insights on the research, service, and teaching.”

Fair: “I read the cover letter to the file and dip in and out of the other materials. Unless there are clear problems, my default impulse is always to vote in favor of the candidate.”

Bad: “I didn’t really have time to read the file. I’ll go to the meeting and try to get a sense of which way the wind is blowing and then make up my mind.”

Evil: “I met with the candidate a full year before they went up for tenure to remind them that they needed my vote to advance. If they didn’t spend the past several months groveling, it’s curtains!”

The secretary/support staff in my unit:

Best: “Are not paid nearly enough given that they do 90 percent of the heavy lifting! I support any effort to improve their working conditions.”



Fair: “Do their job well and I acknowledge that.”

Bad: “Are fine, but I don’t understand why they won’t pick up my dry cleaning.”

Evil: “Should only be paid for nine months given that is the length of the academic year.”

If I had not become an academic, I would have:

Best: “Found another avenue to share my knowledge and research with a wider public. My goal would always be to find a way to enrich our intellectual conversations.”

Fair: “Found a job that allowed me to earn much more money.”

Bad: “Run for public office as a Republican so that I could dismantle higher education as we know it.”

Evil: “Harvested the souls of the innocent.”

The role model who influenced my career:

Best: “The hardworking professors who took an interest in me as a student. They not only taught me the knowledge that I need for this job, but also what it means to be a committed educator.”

Fair: “Wonder Woman.”

Bad: “I did it on my own. Nobody ever helped me and I was always falling through the cracks.”

Evil: “Pope Benedict XVI.”

When writing a book review for a journal:

Best: “I highlight the strengths of the book and the author’s intent. I limit my critique to one or two questions at most. It is important to recognize the hard work that goes into writing any monograph.”

Fair: “I offer faint praise, but conclude with criticism.”

Bad: “Most of my review is simply critique about what the author might have written but didn't. I can only think of holes in the work and imagine an entirely different book than the one that I am reviewing.”

Evil: “Every book review is just an opportunity to ruin somebody’s career.”

When a colleague passes me in the hall:

Best: “I greet them and ask how they are doing.”

Fair: “I smile warmly.”

Bad: “I avoid eye contact.”

Evil: “I make a distinctive rattling sound.”

Inside the Blogging Studio with GayProf

Greetings, loyal readers and true believers. GayProf is having a week of living blogfully. My good fortune allowed me to finally meet (in RL) one of my favorite bloggers of all time: Dorian from Postmodern Barney. He and his friend John made a rest stop in Midwestern Funky Town on their cross-country journey.

When I first started this blog, Dorian was an early inspiration and a really generous reader. He was just as rockin' cool as I imagined (and pretty darn sweet). It was also a pleasure to meet John, one of the few other people I have ever encountered who played Starfleet Battles as a youngster (Yes, I was that type of nerd).

My week of living blogfully will include another blogger visiting Midwestern Funky Town later this week. Dare to guess the identity.

Today, the blogfully week continues with a the conversation that I recently had with HistoriAnn over blogging, academic priorities, and the solution to world hunger. Okay, maybe we didn’t quite tackle all of that. Still, read Part I of our conversation here today and then head over to her corral tomorrow for the conclusion.

***

Part I: Blogging the academic life

GayProf: It’s great that we are finally getting around to a joint post. Of course, my first choice would have been to debate the intricacies of the Wonder Woman episode where Formicida, Queen of the Insects, brings an environmental message to evil and polluting U.S. corporations. I suppose, though, discussing academia is good, too.



The relationship between blogs and academic life seems tricky. Some suggest that it should be construed as important as any other type of intellectual inquiry in tenure/promotion files.

I guess I am conflicted about what I think of that. For me, I liked my little bloggy because I could write about things that I probably wouldn’t have had a chance to write about in more narrow academic circles. Also, it gives a chance for academics to reach a much wider audience. Not many people outside of universities, for instance, would care to pick up a film journal. On a blog, though, they can read a quick post that contemplates the racial meanings of Ricardo Montálban’s roles in film and television (I was sad that he died, but I take comfort in knowing that his casket was upholstered in the richest Corinthian leather possible). Alas, I think more people will have read CoG than will ultimately ever read NERPoD (even if NERPoD is a bit sounder and has fewer typos).

HistoriAnn: I agree with you GayProf: My instinct is that my blog is not something I want to submit as part of my annual report or for my salary exercise.

GayProf: At a talk by Benedict Anderson I once attended, he speculated that the moment that a text becomes something that college students can be tested over it more-or-less loses its revolutionary potential. Maybe the moment that a blog becomes part of merit metrics, they also lose their fun. Then it’s no longer a way to pass the time cracking jokes, but actual work.

HistoriAnn: I also enjoy blogging because of the new people I've met (well, most of them, anyway) and the large audience who will read my blog and engage my opinions who will in fact never, ever pick up my books and articles. A lot of people -- mostly historians or feminist academics outside of History -- have let me know, either on the blog or in person, that HistoriAnn has been really professionally or even personally useful to them, and I'm thrilled that so many people seem to appreciate the community that we've built there.



GayProf: It seems like community is the most important aspect of blogging. Certainly one of the reasons that I started my own blog was that I was feeling a lack of community in many aspects of life in the dreaded state of Texas. Blogging allowed me to connect with different groups of like-minded folk: The queer, other scholars, those obsessed with seventies pop icons. It turns out that those are some rather overlapping communities.


HistoriAnn: Yes. At least, for feminist bloggers and most academic bloggers I think community is the most important thing. There’s a similar interest in creating safe spaces in which we can have conversations across vast geographies, and pretty much in real time. Although friends of mine have commented recently that they think that the historical profession is just too ‘nice’ these days—in that no one really wants to attack anyone’s ideas, they just ignore them instead—I think ‘nice’ is just fine by me in terms of the space I have in the blogosphere.

GayProf: Too nice?(!) I am not sure what conferences they are attending, but I see lots of meanspirited folk become sharks at various panels. Geez – Are they hoping for an Alexis-and- Krystal-in-the-pool sort of moment?



HistoriAnn: Well, who isn’t, so long as it’s not you getting wet? (Just kidding.) But, to return to the question of blogging on the clock versus for fun: blogging is a choice that I think of like a hobby, although "hobby" seems like I'm selling myself short--should I say "avocation," as opposed to my "vocation?" I never dreamed that my avocation would be something that would attract more than a few hundred regular readers. If I put it on my annual report, it would become another obligation, and as a middle-class woman in the early twenty-first century, I've got plenty of obligations to work and to other people in my life. Maybe it's illusory, but keeping it off the books makes it feel more like fun than work.



Realistically, even if I included my blog in my annual report, I'd only get a fraction of credit for it anyway. In my department, our effort distribution is 50% teaching, 35% research, and 15% service. Since blogging is neither teaching nor research -- although it may serve to facilitate both of these aspects of my work -- it would doubtlessly fall into the catchall category we call "service" (as in service to the department/university/profession/community, etc.)

So, all things considered, I like the fact that Historiann is "space off," although it's clearly linked to who I am and what I do professionally. It has brought me into contact with scholars like you, with whom I have a lot in common but who otherwise don’t attend the same conferences, generally speaking, and it’s always good to have more friends and connections than fewer, right? I don’t mean that in a careerist sense, but rather in the sense that it makes me feel connected to a broader community of likeminded scholars. (This is something I think I value more now from my wifi connection in the Colorado Territory than I would if I still lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts or even in Oxford, Ohio.)



GayProf: Yeah, I think blogging could only fall under the “Service” category, which nobody really counts towards anything anyway (No matter how many nifty percentages or fractions that they attach to it. While I have occasionally heard people complain that so-and-so doesn’t do their fair share of service, I have never seen it actually impact their status or potential for raises).

HistoriAnn: Me either! Funny, that. I also don’t see people punished enough for being jerks, but I guess that means I can always reserve my right to be a flaming a-hole should I feel so inclined.

GayProf: Ah, the privileges of tenure. . .

Still, I do think that academics are going to have to engage with internet publishing, including blogs, in more serious ways. I think there is a potential for blogging to be akin to the very early writings of second-wave feminists or African-American and Latino activists in the sixties and seventies. In those instances, most trade and academic presses didn’t want to have anything to do with those works. The ideas, however, were so important that people published them anyway that they could: small independent presses (a thing of the past), self-publishing, or even just mimeographing them so that they could circulate. I think that blogging has allowed a comparable opportunity for people to articulate views that just don’t get traction in the mainstream.

HistoriAnn: This is a great analogy—or, maybe like feminist ‘zines from the 1980s and early 1990s?

GayProf: Blogging also gives academics a chance to have a sense of humor about things. Working in academia, maybe especially in ethnic/race studies, I find that everybody tends to be a little too earnest and serious. Given that ethnic studies professors stand a chance of being arrested in their own home, that lack of humor is probably understandable. Nonetheless, I like to think that we could be irreverent more often, even if we are talking about really serious issues.

HistoriAnn: Exactly. What would you do with your Wonder Woman memorabilia, and what would I do with my Barbies and cowgirl pinups, if we didn't have blogs?

GayProf: Well, I would probably still send my Mego Wonder Woman doll on adventures.



HistoriAnn: Our students get to know us (within limits, one hopes) and we can't help but share a little of our personalities with them in the way we dress, talk, move, organize a class, etc. But academic publications are not about "us" as people -- rightly I think. Blogs even permit us to create alter-egos like a superhero who disguises herself by day as a naval secretary, or like a cowgirl on the High Plains Desert with an amazing library of sexy pin-ups by Gil Elvgren. I think your fascination with Wonder Woman -- bespectacled naval attache by day, superhero of the Allied Powers by night -- captures the fun of blogging. We can develop playful alter-egos who probably have very little to do with our actual everyday professional lives. (And I hope I haven’t disillusioned too many readers for suggesting that I may not actually be a cowgirl who owns a ranch with horses to tend to, fences to ride, and stalls to muck out.)

GayProf: Right, though my secret identity is the worst kept secret on the blogosphere. Diana Prince made it look so easy. Just toss on some glasses and wear a bun-of-steel and nobody second-guesses that you might be wearing a red-white-and-blue playboy bunny costume under that uniform. As there are only a dozen gay-Chicano-studies scholars in existence, you don’t have to be Angela Lansbury to figure my real identity out.



HistoriAnn: That’s another reason I decided to be “out” from the start. I was already tenured, but really—how many other people in the world are there whose research interests are exactly what I do? And how many of them live in Colorado? Anyone considering starting a blog should consider how likely it is you can remain anonymous or pseudonymous if you live in a small state or small metro area. If you live in L.A. or New York, you’ll probably hold onto your anonymity longer, but since most academic bloggers end up in small-town America and Canada, that’s probably unlikely.

GayProf: I never really thought anybody would actually read the blog. When I started, there were just things that I needed to express about my life that wasn’t possible in TexAss.

Setting aside my shaky decisions, and to harp on my previous analogy to the sixties writings (because I tend to like it today), I think that pseudonyms and alter-egos can reignite that previous generations’ notion that the ideas were more important than the individual. They believed that the identity of one particular author was less critical than getting a discussion going.

Still, blogging is simply not the same as other intellectual work. Blogging definitely rewards quantity over quality. The more one posts, the more readers one collects. Indeed, I have seen some really great blogs lose their sense of purpose because the authors wanted to increase their readership. In place of thoughtfully written pieces written every few days, they became a clearing house for news feeds posted dozens and dozens of times per day. It works, too. They have thousands of readers who are willing to comment on a post consisting of nothing more than a picture of a cup of coffee.



HistoriAnn: Yes -- even some academic blogs -- or rather, blogs by people who were once academics -- have fallen into this trap. I try to walk the line by posting pretty much every day, and levening the history geek posts with the political commentary, and the professional issues in academia posts with Barbies or other doll-related posts, just to lighten the mood. (Depressing blogs are to their readers as Kryptonite is to Superman! They will sap your superpowers.)

But there's no question: it's easier to just link to someone else and say simply "heh" or "interesting," than it is to analyze something and open up a question for your readers to reflect on. But then, that's in part why I linked my blog to my real life identity--I thought that people should know where I'm coming from, and that it might curb any temptation to become intellectually lazy.

GayProf: I agree – After all, I can read a newsfeed just as easily as anybody else. Why go to a blog for that?



And there are some topics I won’t do on my blog. People’s murders, beatings, or personal humiliations just don’t seem like appropriate content for a blog with campy comic book covers and jokes about having sex with a car.

Of Blogs and Trolls

Geez – I return to [landlocked] Paradise Island for just a few days and patriarch’s world totally falls apart. People lost their damn minds over a flu outbreak currently affecting 0.00000003 percent of the nation’s population; Larry Krammer missed his own point in a shrill screed; a Supreme Court Justice called it quits; and Chrysler filed for bankruptcy. Okay, that last one was as predictable as the sunrise. Still, those others took me off guard.

All that aside, I recently had an e-mail exchange with HistoriAnn concerning a reoccurring troll outbreak on her space. No, I am not talking about Timothy Geithner -- This time. Rather, it's a reader who just won't take a hint -- or an explicit statement -- or an outright demand to just go away.

It got me to thinking, do trolls know that they are trolls? Maybe they actually think of themselves as a force of good rather than an unnecessary drag on humanity.

So, I devised this helpful quiz to determine whether you are a troll or not. Answer the following questions to know for sure:

1. I read blogs because:

A. I want to be exposed to wider range of viewpoints than is available through mainstream media.

B. My computer has a porn filter installed.

C. I believe that I am the only person qualified to police the internet.

2. When I encounter a blog post that I disagree with, I:

A. Simply move on and read another blog. Life is too short to worry about what other people are doing on their blogs.

B. Leave a short comment of disagreement with an explanation.

C. Leave comments suggesting that the blogger has questionable parentage. Then I click on all of that bloggers links and leave additional comments asking them all to just shut up.

3. My favorite blogs:

A. Challenge me to think in new ways.

B. Give helpful hints on knitting.

C. Are written by people against whom I have sworn a blood oath to defeat.

4. Most bloggers respond to my comments by:

A. Acknowledging them politely.

B. Linking to my own blog.

C. Deleting them.

5. After reading blogs, I feel:

A. Like I spent time more productively than reading a magazine.

B. Like I should have spent that time watching porn.

C. Like I need to seek revenge.

6. My day job is:

A. Clerical/Industrial.

B. Technical/Professional.

C. Handing out riddles before allowing people to pass over bridges.

7. The bloggers who I read most often:

A. Write about events in their daily lives.

B. Assess popular culture or news stories.

C. Have filed a restraining order against me.

8. The best way to engage in an on-line discussion is to:

A. Ask more questions of the author.

B. Offer a counter example.

C. Leave half a dozen comments on a single entry, all of which are longer than the author's original post.

9. If a blogger asks me to stop reading/commenting on their blog, I:

A. Stop reading/commenting on their blog.

B. Apologize for offending them and then stop reading/commenting on their blog.

C. Develop a new alias to trick them so that I can keep commenting on their blog. After all, they clearly need my help to show them the errors of their ways.

10. If I find a blogger who has made a mistake on their blog, I:

A. Send them a private e-mail noting the error.

B. Leave a short comment.

C. Phone their employer and ask that they be fired.

11. To my mind, the least interesting blogs are:

A. Not updated often.

B. Depend upon gimmicks, like campy comic book covers.

C. Are written by people with whom I actually agree.

12. Before leaving an accusatory comment, I:

A. Re-read the entry to make sure that I understand the tone and reasoning behind the post.

B. Read some of the blog archive to get a sense of that blogger’s overall politics and purpose.

C. Don’t bother reading the entry or anything else on the blog – I just know when a blogger is wrong.

13. When I read a blog written by somebody who identifies as a different race/gender/sexual orientation as myself, I:

A. Take it as an opportunity to expand my own understanding of different experiences.

B. Consider points of common humanity.

C. Assume that their blog is part of a vast conspiracy intended to rob my race/gender/sexual orientation of our basic rights.

14. In real life, my friends:

A. Don’t know that I read blogs.

B. Occasionally receive e-mails from me recommending particular blogs or entries.

C. Don’t exist outside the confines of my imagination.

15. The last time I spent a night on the town, I:

A. Went for cocktails at my favorite bar.

B. Saw a musical/play/movie.

C. Replaced a newborn infant with a changeling.

16. If another commentator disagrees with me on a third-party’s blog, I:

A. Allow the conversation to continue on its own. I said what I needed to say the first time.

B. Leave it to the blog author to respond, or not respond, as s/he sees fit.

C. Depend upon sarcasm and ALL CAPS to silence and intimidate my critics.

17. If a blogger makes reference to an event or issue that I didn’t previously know about, I:

A. Look to read more about it in my local library or from reliable internet sources.

B. Ask my friends about their knowledge of the event or issue.

C. This has never happened because I know everything about everything.

18. My own blog:

A. Is very similar in scope and content as the blogs that I read.

B. Allows me to experiment with different ideas and sharpen my writing.

C. I don’t have a blog – It would detract from all the time I need to spend “correcting” other bloggers.

19. When I have met bloggers in real life, I:

A. Have been pleasantly surprised by their approachability.

B. Exchanged helpful tips about html code.

C. Predicted that their eldest daughter would prick her finger on a spindle and die.

20. Many blogs are explicitly partisan. I think:

A. This is an important part of free speech and the exchange of ideas.

B. This has been an important transformation in political discourse over the past ten years.

C. This demands police intervention.

21. Without blogs, I would:

A. Watch more television.

B. Read more books.

C. Beat up small school children.

22. I think of blog space as:

A. The equivalent to an individual’s living room. We are all guests.

B. Akin to a coffee shop. I use the same basic manners as I use in polite society. If I wouldn't say it out loud, I won't write it.

C. A war zone where one must kill, kill, KILL.

23. Anonymity on blogs:

A. Allows individuals to be free to express their ideas without fear of reprisal.

B. Is often fragile, but should be respected.

C. Is my exclusive right. Everybody else is a coward.

24. If I were only able to leave one last comment on a blog ever again, I would:

A. Thank a particular blogger for hours of free entertainment over the years.

B. Ask why a certain blogger is disturbingly haunted by Wonder Woman.

C. Write, “To the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.” Or words to that effect.

25. As a child, I:

A. Learned basic manners.

B. Read too many comic books.

C. Never received the attention that I felt that I deserved.

Homo-Pocus

Given that the previous two entries exposed my indoorsy-geeky side, I thought that I would make it a hat-trick by showing my knowledge of the Harry Potter books. At the start of this past weekend, J. K. Rowling, author of the obscenely popular children’s stories, stunned an audience at Carnegie Hall with the revelation that she conceived of Albus Dumbledore as a gay man.

Since you know me well (I think that we are close like that), it will come as no surprise that I can’t help but think of the good and bad with this announcement. Well, okay, I mostly think of the bad. Hey, this is a blog entitled the Center of Gravitas. Go elsewhere for images of My Little Pony and recipes for gumdrop cookies.

On the good side, it’s great that such a well-loved childhood figure will now have a legend of gayness around him. Those “in the know” will inform new readers about the author’s statements about Dumbledore. It will surely go into the Potter lore.

In some ways, of course, I appreciate Rowling’s effort to gay-up Dumbledore. Aside from Harry himself, Dumbledore was probably the character that captured most people’s imaginations. His death in book six (Should I have mentioned there would be spoilers here?) left many faithful readers feeling like they had lost a close friend.

For those who don’t know the Potter story (My God, how have you managed that?), a young orphan boy is rescued from his abusive guardians with the discovery that he is eligible to attend a special school for wizards. Well, except that the school is only open nine months a year and the wizarding version of social services is apparently quite inadequate. So, Harry gets returned annually to face cigarette burns and beatings for the summers (when he can’t use his magic to defend himself).



On his way to the school, he hears the legend of Dumbledore. According to the necessary exposition his youthful informants, Dumbledore is considered one of the most powerful wizards in all of Britain (if not the world). Yet, he is also kindly and wise to the students attending his school. During most of the day, he seems to hum to himself as he sweeps around campus in long, flowing robes decorated with suns and moons. Whenever Harry is in danger, though, Dumbledore suddenly appears as powerful as Merlin. He can spin out ropes made of fire or summon a Phoenix with the flick of his little wand.

It comes as little surprise that many real-life queer adults (and probably queer kids) found the Harry Potter stories appealing. All tales of magic tap into some basic fantasies about control and power. The queer, though, are also often attracted to narratives involving the sudden revelation of hidden worlds or exposed secrets. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Harry literally lived in a closet up until the events of the first book.

I had therefore been annoyed that Rowling had failed to make any of her characters explicitly queer. This latest turn of events, sad to say, does not really help us.

Now I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but a gay Dumbledore is not much of an improvement on the same old queer images that we have seen elsewhere in the popular media. Rowling’s outing of Dumbledore hardly destroyed the closet around the fictional character. On the contrary, she only pointed out how tightly those closet doors were sealed.

If we are to now read Dumbledore’s experiences as those of a gay man, then the image he presents of our lives is an unhappy and empty one. Think I am being unfair? Let’s review the stereotypes that Rowling used to “hint” at Dumbledore’s true desires:

* His childhood was marked by a violent/absentee father, an overbearing mother, and dysfunctional siblings (Did Rowling consult Freud for her views on homosexuality?).

* His one and only love interest, Grindelwald, turned out to be a psychopathic killer.

* His one and only love interest was unrequited.

* The rest of his life is riddled with loneliness, despair, guilt, and regret.

* His adult brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, is hinted to be into bestiality (on several occasions) with goats.

Despite his many magical powers, Dumbledore is not much of a queer hero. By the last book, he seems tangled in a web of pathology created by his unhappy homelife. His adult queer desires for Grindelwald are rejected and misplaced.

Indeed, the question at Carnegie Hall that prompted Rowling’s revelation asked if Dumbledore knew “true love” in his life. In response, the author stated, “Dumbledore is gay.” Are we to assume that being gay precludes the possibility of true love? Were Dumbledore’s queer desires not “true love,” but a twisted mistake? This seems more than confirmed when Rowling declared that Dumbledore's love was his "great tragedy." Boy, howdy, when has gay love not been perceived of as a tragedy in the hetero media? I'll just gesture in the general direction of Brokeback Mountain.




Obviously, I don’t imagine that Rowling conceives of herself as hostile or homophobic. She means well – I hope.

Still, Dumbledore fits a particular type of queer image that makes heterosexuals feel comfortable. He is helpful, attentive, a good listener, asexual, and a little sad. Dumbledore never once discusses his own sexuality or acts on it (given the tragic results that happened the one time that he did, who could blame him?). He certainly never burdens the heterosexuals around him by making them think about his sexuality, either. Instead, he does what all gay men should do: Devotes his life to helping good, heterosexual men and (sometimes) women achieve their goals. He is so devoted to helping the heterosexual hero in the books that he even returns from the grave to do so.

While Dumbledore is immensely powerful, he never uses that power to advance his own cause or to help his fellow queer wizards and witches. Heck, he can’t even be bothered to conjure up a disco ball and some mojitos for the local gay bar. Instead, he always marshals his magic to shore up the inherent strength of Harry the hetero. When he isn’t doing that, he also serves Harry some candy and shores up his ego. All the while, we are to believe, Dumbledore is secretly tormented because he will never find true love as (because he is?) a gay man.

Imagine Dumbledore as a magical mix between Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and the long-suffering Martha Dobie from The Children’s Hour. One can imagine Dumbledore vacillating between crying to Harry “I’m so guilty” and advising “You should always start applying wizarding cream from the back of your head.”

Moreover, by only revealing Dumbledore’s sexuality outside of the actual text, Rowling has kept up the notion that queer men and women are not appropriate content for children's literature, much less a reality of their world. Even Uncle Arthur was a more explicitly gay figure.

Dumbledore’s outing is therefore an unhappy compromise for queer visibility. Sure we get to claim his swirling robes as our own. We can even marvel at the firworks he creates that would make the Fourth of July on Boston Harbor seem like a sparkler in a wet saucer.

What we still don’t get, though, is an actual hero who reflects our realities. Queer youth, in particular, don’t get to see the real queer heroism of an individual fighting for the right to love and/or ball whomever he wants. We don’t see individuals making a space for themselves with almost no support from anywhere else in society as hostile attacks rain down on them.



Instead, we get Dumbledore, who simply gave up on his own queer life and rights. He might have been a great wizard, but he was a lousy gay man.

VUBOQ is One of Life's Winners!

Since last we spoke, my former Texan colleague went from persistent to bat-shit crazy. Clearly I misunderstood when I thought that he was asking for a favor. In reality, he was making a demand.

This was really one of the major problems with that department all along. Senior faculty, like him, always imagined that their interests far outweighed the interests of us peon junior faculty. Since his ability to control my tenure fate has been eliminated, he proved completely unable to grasp that I actually said “no” to him. This resulted in my being inundated with unending e-mails – each more snarky than the last.

Somewhere in the middle of the e-mail flurry, I had to step back. It dawned on me that his craziness was eliciting a similar stubborn craziness from me as well. Just when you think that you are out, they find ways to drag you right back in again.

Ultimately, some might say that I folded like a card-table. I, though, prefer to think that I realized that the issue simply wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want to keep playing the bizarre and unprofessional games that plagued that department when the stakes were so low and simply didn’t matter. Plus, the thought of getting this same quantity of e-mail for the next four weeks didn’t appeal to me at all. It reminded me why I am so glad to be getting out of Nutsville.

In more pleasant news, VUBOQ achieved the high-score on knowing all there is to know about GayProf. He will receive his super-secret prize in the next four to six weeks (whenever I drag my lazy ass to the post office).

I think that we all know that the rest of you should be emulating VUBOQ. Clearly he has his priorities in order and slavishly devotes himself to collecting information about GayProf.

Nobody, though, scored a 100 percent. On reflection, I think that is also good news. If somebody had scored a perfect score, the super-secret prize would have been a restraining order.

Let’s take a look at the real answers, shall we?

1. Among other reasons, GayProf doesn’t like the department-store Macy’s because:

I think only one thing when I see a Macy’s department store: That is the company that killed Marshall Field’s. Any ad on television or any radio spot just makes me think that they cared more about cutting costs on printing shopping bags than preserving a piece of Chicago history. Call me sentimental. Call me a historian. Call me a sentimental historian. Whatever the case, destroying Marshall Field’s was totally unnecessary and shortsighted.

Macy’s, you suck.

And don’t even get me started on the modern-lie that is Frango candy....

2. GayProf once referred to the term “MAD-C.” What did this stand for?

MAD-C, as everybody seemingly knew, stood for Middle-Aged Disgruntled Colleague. Texas gave me the opportunity to know many MAD-C’s.

In retrospect, though, I wish that I had written about Mormons Attending Disco Clubs. It just sounds more provocative.

3. The first real image of GayProf ever posted on this blog showed him:

During a brief attempt at being Emma Peel, I had this shot, the first to feature a real-life GayProf:

4. Whose image is always on GayProf’s refrigerator?

James Dean’s image is almost always on my fridge. This entry explains why.

5. Where was GayProf born?

I was born and raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Everyday, I thank God that I was not born in Texas.



I am still pressing my mother to prove that I was not crafted out of clay and brought to life by the gods. I think she is close to admitting the truth. Stay tuned.

6. What mishap did not occur to GayProf during the move from Texas to Boston?

During the long and unpleasant trip across the nation, the most direct route took me through TX, LA, MS, AL, GA, TN, VA, MD, PA, NJ, NY, CT, and MA. The cat shit and puked on my lap. For a variety of reasons, I had no assistance loading and unloading the truck. Plus, somewhere in Virginia I got my first speeding ticket – ever.

On the bright side, I did not have a flat tire on that trip. Plus, I ended up in Boston. That alone made the travails worth it.

7. Which Science Fiction movie was GayProf’s favorite at age 5?

When I first went to see Star Wars in the theater, I made my father keep taking me to the bathroom. It bored me. It wasn’t until Empire Strikes Back came out that I was hooked on Star Wars.

Everybody was bored by Star Trek: The Motion Picture. I can’t believe when they released the DVD they made that movie even longer.

E.T. and Gremlins both came out when I was around nine or ten. Despite being a bit older, Gremlins scared the crap out of me. I had to sleep with a nite-light for years after that movie.

In the end, I loved Disney’s The Black Hole. That film started my life-long affection for effete and fussy robots.

8. As a child, who bought GayProf the Mego Wonder Woman doll for Christmas?

My father, against his own wishes, bought me my Mego Wonder Woman. Though an older post, that entry is actually one of my favorites from the blog.

9. As a general trend, which of the following topics usually generates the least number of comments on CoG?

As a very general trend, entries on race or ethnicity get the least number of comments overall. I have no insight into why this is the case, but it is a something that I have noticed. If anybody speculates about why this might be true, I am open to debate.

Entries on porn get the most comments, btw.

10. Which one of these blogs is run by the person who first linked to GayProf?

My first link came from the author of Redd Turtles and Blue Ducks (on her previous blog). I will always be appreciative of that. GayProf might hold grudges (I am looking at you, Macy’s), but he also remembers the good stuff, too. Sadly, it doesn't seem she updates anymore.

11. What is GayProf’s favorite Christmas dish?

I do love all of these things. New Mexico state law a requires that I officially answer “biscochitos,” so I gave partial credit for that answer. In truth, though, my favorite dish is a plate of (very labor-intensive) tamales.

12. Where did GayProf go to graduate school?

A number of people guessed New Mexico. Actually, though, I went away to the Midwest for grad school. Though my new job is not at the same Midwestern university, in many ways it will be familiar ground.

13. The Pope is to Hitler Youth as GayProf is to:

Though an imperfect analogy, the best answer would have been “Student Government.” At my high school, that basically meant that I was part of the decorating committee for all the dances.



As an aside, I am not saying that everybody who was in Hitler Youth was necessarily evil; however, I don’t think that somebody who claims to be God’s representative on earth could have participated in Hitler Youth regardless of the circumstances. It seems to me that there are a number of historical Catholic figures who sacrificed themselves rather than participating in an evil (and deadly) institution.

14. Which of the following has not been a parenthetical reference to Liar Ex?

At some point or another, I have said all of those things about Liar Ex except that he should just die. Part of my belief in karma is not wishing harm on anybody, even scummy liars like George W. Bush or Liar Ex (Who Has a Surprising Amount in Common with George W. Bush).

Besides, I find the reality of Liar Ex's pitiful life and relationship with his loser boyfriend much more satisfying than wishing him dead. If he was dead, he wouldn't be nearly as pathetic.

15. What is GayProf’s soda of choice?

TaB – Even if you have just glanced at the blog (or seen my lab tests), this would have been easy. Between TaB and the Hello, Kitty! Poptarts, I will be dead by age 40.

I only drink the blood of virgins to keep me looking youthful.

16. Which of the following was not true about the house I co-owned in Texas?

Alas, it was totally my idea to buy that accursed house. The other things were all true.

17. As a child, GayProf’s favorite Halloween costume was:

Zorro was my favorite costume. Given I was the third child in my family, my parents had basically abandoned photographing our lives by that Halloween. Thus, I have no visual record of my Zorro costume. My mother, though, sewed it all herself. In particular, I loved my long, flowing black cape. If I could pull it off, I would go for that look today.

18. GayProf’s most recent (and most frequent adult-era) Halloween costume was:

I most often go as a sailor. Once you have the hat, it’s pretty much an easy ride from there.



I would like to go as Freddie Mercury in drag (complete with miniskirt and mustache) from his "Break Free" video. Perhaps next year...

19. According to this blog, which of the following happened at one or more universities in Texas over the past four years?

All of those things were true. To my mind, the blackface video and the defacing of the Martin Luther King, Jr. statute suggest that something quite sinister is happening in Texas. I am not sure that we are even aware of its depth.

20. Did GayProf go to his highschool senior prom?

I did go to my highschool prom. If I spent all that time decorating, you don't think I wouldn't show up, do you?

I was not out of the closet, though, and went with a girl who was a friend (not a girlfriend).

21. Last year, GayProf had a photo meme about his Texas apartment. Which item did GayProf own?

I owned the 1960s warming tray, for serving a hot brunch. It has been lugged around with me for almost a decade. In that time, I have used it once. Still, at any moment, I could keep my flapjacks warm and toasty.

Somewhere at my parent’s house, I also have an I Dream of Jeannie bottle (and they feigned surprise when I told them that I was gay!). The Jeannie bottle was actually just a 1960s liquor bottle that the show painted as a prop. That, though, didn’t make it into the photo meme.

22. Before becoming a history professor, GayProf worked as a:

secretary. All through undergrad, I worked basically full-time as some form of clerical assistant. At some point, I should really write about my time as a secretary at a mental hospital.

Being a prostitute is more of my retirement plan.

23. How did GayProf get the tiny scar on his forehead?

It was a tragic childhood styling-related accident. I was playing with my sister’s hairdryer and put the scolding-hot metal tip to my forehead. My face has never been the same.

24. Exactly 7 persons - P, Q, R, S, T, U & V - periodically offer GayProf gifts to show their gratitude and admiration. During each round of gift giving, none of the gifts are ever of equal value. The following statements about the gifts are always true :

V always gives a more expensive gift than P
P always gives a more expensive gift than Q
Either R gives the most expensive gift and T gives the least expensive gift, or S gives the most expensive gift and U or Q give the least expensive.

If S gives the sixth most expensive gift and Q gives the fifth most expensive gift, which of the following can be true?

A. V gives the most expensive or forth most expensive gift
B. R gives the second or third most expensive gift
C. P gives the second or fifth most expensive gift
D. U gives the third or fourth most expensive gift
E. T gives the fourth or fifth most expensive gift

The answer is “D.” If you are deeply curious why (and I doubt that you are), I can explain. This is a real-life GRE question (minus the reference to GayProf) -- Makes you kinda pity potential grad students, doesn't it?

When scoring, though, I also gave full credit to smart-ass answers or those who refused to answer the question for moral and/or religious reasons.

25. For Hispanic Heritage Month 2006, GayProf:

Chico and his tight, tight pants got my attention. Contacting Che from beyond the grave is on my list for this summer.

26. What is GayProf’s least favorite month?

January sucks. I did, however, give half-credit for those who answered February. In my mind, January (and its sucking) extends from December 31 to February 15.

27. What was GayProf’s first car?

My first car was the almost indestructible 1975 Dodge Dart. With the exception of the hubcaps, it was identical to the one pictured below:



My parents bought it brand new in 1975. Here you can see a wee GayProf posed in front of it (the baseball bat was probably forced into my hands seconds before by my father):



One of my biggest life regrets is getting rid of that car. It had the unforgivable flaw, though, of lacking air conditioning with a black interior. Under the sizzling Albuquerque sun, that was almost life-threatening.

As an aside, I would also love to own a Charger or a Challenger. I am big into the bygone era of Mopar Muscle cars.

My sister’s first car was a Pinto. It would be one in a long line of vehicles that she owned that would spontaneously combust.

28. Is GayProf circumcised?

Statistics could have helped you all out here. Like 85 percent of the men in my age group born in the U.S., I haven't seen my foreskin since the first 24 hours I was on this planet. Sorry, Marlan.

I have had hands on experience with both the hardtop and convertible models. Both seem good to me and I don’t really have a preference. As long as it doesn't take heroic efforts to make it ready for action, I am not really that picky. TMI?

29. Besides Wonder Woman, what 1970s television show is most frequently mentioned on CoG?

With the possible exception of Barnaby Jones, all of the other shows have had at least one mention. After Wonder Woman, though, no other seventies show informed my young consciousness quite like Charlie’s Angels. I am sure that more therapy is required.

30. Which of the following is true about GayProf?

A. Is universally adored.

B. Is the most desirable man on the blogosphere.

C. Should be honored with a bronze statue.

D. All of the above

There is no wrong answer to this question.

Finally, for DykeWife, this is the only picture I could find from the big-hair era. I seem to remember that my hair got even more voluminous, but the historical record doesn’t contain that data.

By the Cover

Books are becoming a casualty of the digital age. Academic publishers, in particular, are hard hit by the changing trends. The presses that publish scholarly works never really turned a major profit, if at all. Now, though, even major university presses are faced with the reality of market demand. Most are simply deciding to publish fewer books which they hope will sell.

This got me to thinking. What is it that makes one book more appealing than another? While the proverbial “judging by the cover” might not work, there might be clues as to the title and author.

Here are books that I imagine would be a hit and others that would be destined for the bargain bin:

Best Seller: Power as a Means of Seduction by Bill Clinton

Bargain Bin: Pantsuits in Every Color: A Wardrobe for Success by Hillary Clinton

Best Seller: My Cat is Smarter than My Husband and Other Regrets by Laura Bush

Bargain Bin: Everybody Poops by George W. Bush

Bargain Bin: The Genius of George W. Bush by Tony Blair

Best Seller: What the Fuck Went Wrong with Our Prime Minister? By The British People

Best Seller: James Bond Made Me a Sex Symbol by Daniel Craig



Bargain Bin: James Bond Made Me a Sex Symbol by George Lazenby



Bargain Bin: My Favorite Recipes (Made With Real Human Souls) by Condoleeza Rice

Best Seller: How to Use Another World Leader’s Incompetence to Distract from Your Own Rising Dictatorship by Hugo Chávez

Bargain Bin: 100 Percent Heterosexual – Except for the Times that I Hire Male Prostitutes by Pastor Ted Haggard

Bargain Bin: Leading an Authentic Life by Liar Ex (Who Told Many Lies)

Bargain Bin: I’ll Shoot You in the Face: A Story of Friendship by Dick Cheney

Bargain Bin: I'll Shoot You in the Face: My Time at the National Endowment for the Humanities by Lynne Cheney

Bargain Bin: I'll Shoot You in the Face: My Relationship with the Gay Community by Mary Cheney

Best Seller: Dear God, Take Their Guns Away by Mary Cheney's Baby

Best Seller: Comedy as a Better form of Journalism by Jon Stewart

Bargain Bin: Lies as a Better Form of Journalism by Rupert Murdoch

Best Seller: The Genius of Star Wars by George Lucas (published 1978)

Bargain Bin: The Genius of Star Wars by George Lucas (published 2007)

Best Seller: My Life in Pictures by Jacqueline Kennedy



Bargain Bin: My Life in Pictures by Karl Rove



Bargain Bin: How Viagra Cost Me a Job at the World Bank by Paul Wolfowitz

Best Seller: We Were Just Shocked that Somebody -- Anybody -- Would Sleep With Paul Wolfowitz by The World Bank Board of Trustees

Bargain Bin: More Hate, More Executions, More Poverty: A Blueprint for America by Texan Republicans

Best Seller: At Least We Aren’t the United States by the People of Canada

Bargain Bin: I Don’t Recall: The Inner Workings of the Department of Justice by Alberto Gonzalez

Bargain Bin: How to Make Smart Choices in Love, Real Estate, and Finance by GayProf