Week 15 of 2025
It's a Monday, for sure. Even though, temperature-wise at least, it feels a bit more like spring today -- the last few days have felt like “third winter” -- the sky is still partly overcast. And the gloom persists regardless of any blue peeking thru, especially when the news informs you of things like, "El Salvador's President refuses to return wrongly deported man." Or "Trump boasts that he'd like to deport US citizens to El Salvador." I was forwarded an email from a friend this morning who was stunned and sickened to see an education reformer -- a pretty well-known and well-connected guy -- articulate full-throated support for the AI- / MAGA- / DOGE- / a16z-vision of "build baby build.” I’m not surprised to see the embrace of techno-fascism in education. I mean, I’ve seen this coming with a lot of the libertarian menfolk who’ve long dismissed democratic voices in their quest for a union of very smart man and very smart machine.
The forecast -- weather-wise etc etc etc -- is pretty dark.
Good news, I guess: I had my annual doctor’s check-up last week, and everything looks good. (Everything that was tested, that is. Mammogram TBD.) My iron’s a wee bit low, but the doctor didn’t seemed concerned. I got several vaccines -- gotta get them, I guess, before RFK Jr. completely undermines our ability to do so.
I spoke to my friend Jose's class too. One of the students gave an excellent presentation before my talk -- inspiration for today’s newsletter, linking intelligence testing, individualization, and racist inequalities. (Friday’s newsletter: “Breaking the Spell.”)
I’m working on a foreword to a book this afternoon, trying to figure out what I want to say and, more broadly what I want to do. Like, should I get my PhD? (Teaching and talking to a class always gets me thinking I should.) Should I cancel all my speaking events so I can buckle down and write this goddamn book? I don’t even fucking know.
A highlight: I have taught Poppy to fall over and play dead when I make a finger-gun and say “bang.” Another highlight: Bradley Cooper opened a cheesesteak joint in the East Village -- Danny and Coop’s -- and despite being totally hyped, it did not disappoint. Kin and I went yesterday -- the oldest people there by far. The line was short; they text you when your sandwich is ready. We ate it in Tompkins Square Park -- lovely day -- then walked over the Veniero’s, where the service was abyssmal, but the Italian pastries (cakes, cheesecakes, whatever) were good.