Theodicius
Good. Evil. Bratwurst.

…Buttigieg, that is. She of the TV show neat.

As an incorrigible Mess Monster from Planet Chaos, I’ve never understood neat people. How do they do it, anyway? Anytime I’ve ever tried to get organized (from Franklin Planners, to Covey — before they merged — to 189 different books and shows) I’ve always ended up worse than before. Rather like a fad dieter, I always end up farther away from my goal instead of closer. (I write these lines in a 110 square foot office with maybe as much as 8 square feet of floor space showing — including the space under my desk. It takes two strides of about a meter — that’s in honor of Hellen, a Canadian — length each to get to my chair. Any less and I either break myself or something else. Currently the stacks on the desk top out at about 14 inches. The desk itself is 16 square feet of surface area with less than ten square inches visible.)

But Hellen gives me hope. I watch her in action (highly recommended, BTW) and unlike the rest of the organizers, I see she doesn’t come in with a pre-built solution, but actually tries to learn why the disorganization is there in the first place, and then construct a system that not only works but isn’t one that you have to fight against yourself to use.

Almost I think of giving it one last try. Thank you, Hellen.

One of the “Home Repair” mysteries from Sarah Graves. This is my first venture into this series, and I’m disappointed. I was looking for a modern series; It struck me that, aside from Dick Francis, all the mystery authors I was seriously reading and collecting were dead. There was Tom Clancy, but I gave up on Jack Ryan after he became president and solved all the Isreali/Palestinian problems, and John LeCarre didn’t seem the same after the Soviet Union fell.

I have to say, though, that I’m not sure if I’m disappointed at the book itself, or because the book didn’t come close to living up to the hype that was stuffed into the first three pages. I found little of the “tart wit”, “zingy dialogue,” etc., I was promised.

What I found instead was a fairly serviceable plot, with the only “home repair” I noticed being dumpster diving for shutters and the handy tip that you need to clamp the work in place before applying the belt sander (so much for “Diane Mott Davidson with a toolbelt insetad of recipes;” since woodworking is my hobby, perhaps there were more tips that went by without being noticed). It wasn’t hard to see the end coming, especially when the (rather obvious) dope dealer died. Still it was handled with aplomb, and I always say I don’t mind knowing where I’m going as long as the trip is fun. I did wince, however, when the murderer, who went to great pains to remove something incriminating from one of the victims, was found, some 200 pages later, to still be carrying, in a pocket, that incriminating piece of evidence.

Bottom line? Don’t go into this book expecting the greatest mystery read of all time, or even of the year. The characterization is reminiscent of James Patterson’s all-woman murder society (it strikes me as I write this that, aside from Hercule Poirot, I haven’t run into any male protagonists in quite some time, the guys are always the villains and sometimes the sidekicks) but it’s a rung or two below that in terms of execution. It’s an adequate storyline, though; not a waste of time.

Recommendation? Tentative. I’m going back to sample another book (and possibly two) from this series before I give up on it. I haven’t however, decided to start buying hardcovers of it.

As I was doing some other research, I ran across something disturbing. There’s apparently an organization at Tuskegee which has had a regular practice of putting its pledges in a hospital. According to what I found, it appears this has been ongoing for 25+ years, and the University hasn’t stopped it. It would seem the least it could do is warn incoming students that pledging to this organization could be hazardous to their health, but it hasn’t even seen fit to do this. I don’t know if it’s afraid, or what, but that seems downright irresponsible behavior. I suppose it has the legal refuge of “plausible deniability” but it seems unlikely to me that something that results in injuries to pledges with such disturbing regularity can really pass unnoticed to anyone that cares to look.

I am going to continue to dig into this particular organization. I haven’t named them because I lack complete enough information to determine if the problem is local to Tuskegee or is endemic to the national organization, but I do know of specific cases (yes, plural) where this sort of abuse has happened at Tuskegee. I know they routinely employ intimidation and threats to prevent their victims from prosecuting. I appeal to those within the reach of my keyboard; I will compile the facts and statistics and maintain your anonymity, and when the complete case is built, I will publish, in an attempt to publicly shame them into doing the right thing. And if you don’t wish to work with me on this, that’s OK. I would still urge you to talk about it openly with your friends, and especially with young people you know who might be in danger of walking in to this situation; if they’re intent to pledge, they deserve to walk into it with their eyes open, don’t they?

And if you’re a member of this group, particularly if you’re one of the ones (and there are several of you) who are also leading Bible studies in the community while endorsing this abuse, I am ashamed of you. You, especially, should know better. Jesus didn’t say, “Let the children come to me and suffer,” and you know it. I don’t see how you can sit by and watch this happening, much less condone it or even actively take part in it. You should be ashamed of yourselves; by your actions you bring shame not only on yourselves, but the whole Christian community as well.

Ultimately, the blame lies with the local organization, including the adult alumni in the area who are helping to perpetuate this abuse. (I was tempted to characterize them as “thugs” but I’m not sure if I mightn’t be insulting thugs by doing so.) I know this, and endorse this viewpoint. But I can’t help but feel the University bears some responsibility, because of the “code of silence” that it is participating in. Because I feel this way, I can no longer recommend this university to any of the youth I work with.