TAIL TRACK.

Barring signal troubles, links to any posts of substance ought to work.

TELL THAT DEANLET TO SOD OFF.

The house organ for all wokeness, all the time, republishes an August 2024 lament, "The Summer Break That Isn’t."  The author, one Susannah M. Givens, is not dealing with the proliferation of journals to keep current with or the gift of an uninterrupted morning of reading and writing time.  In her community college environment, the distractions keep coming all the same.

Don’t get me wrong. My summers are not miserable. They are the opposite, usually involving time with family and friends, traveling, reading and gardening. But in the midst of all of that, resentment festers within as I realize all over again the unstated expectation that I also work through summer for no pay.

What I really want someone to ask when I return for fall is “Did your summer leave you feeling rested and ready for the new academic year?” Maybe then I would reply more honestly. I envision myself boldly responding, “No. In fact, I feel underappreciated. My work is not valued. Summer made me realize how my time has been disrespected for many years. My tank is half-full because I have been volunteering my time to keep up with emails, policy changes, advising, meetings and grant work all summer. At this point, I hope I make it to winter break.”

This isn’t just my individual experience. My reality is widespread. I don’t claim to speak for all faculty members, but I know that from colleagues at other institutions, from the many books I’ve read, from the private online groups where I have lurked and from the many podcast episodes I have heard.

Her discontent is not about the inconsistent deliveries of the Journal of Trivial Results whether in print or on the server.  It's the deanlets.

The emails don’t stop. Students need advising. Faculty are encouraged to attend meetings in person and virtually. Administrators need replies to various requests. And if I don’t keep up, I could miss something—a policy change or new initiative—that might have a negative impact on my students or me. I worry about not attending a meeting where an announcement could be quietly dropped while faculty are not paying full attention. What might I be missing? This question looms over the summer.

And the deanlets have to justify their existence.  "Faculty cannot set boundaries if administrators keep overstepping them, and it is time for administrators to take the lead in changing the culture."

The faculty have to set boundaries, whether by letting the electronic mail fester or by asking if that midsummer meeting is necessary.  "Summer shut-down has been a fact of life for what, 100 years? And in that time nobody has figured out how to deal with most of the routine business by May 15?"

It's likely too much to ask of Inside Higher Ed contributors that they call attention to all the intrusive diversity and special education stuff that make teaching more of a pain than it has to be.

Set those boundaries.  Tell those deanlets to sod off.

NEITHER BEER NOR BRATWURST.

Imagine, dear reader, a human interest story from ninety years ago documenting the human side of the Volksbund.  Maybe it could incorporate the rhetoric of empathy and inclusion.

World War I traumatized Germans on both sides of the Atlantic – though in different ways. In Wisconsin and across the United States, war with Germany led to a wave of anti-German hysteria. Self-proclaimed “superpatriots” attacked ethnic Germans (whom they assumed disloyal unless proven otherwise) and denigrated their culture. Sauerkraut became “liberty cabbage” and hamburgers “liberty sandwiches.” Some Germans were forced to kiss the American flag to prove their loyalty, and a few were even physically accosted. In neighboring Illinois, a German immigrant was wrapped in a flag, forced to sing the “Star Spangled Banner,” then hanged. In such a hostile atmosphere, many German-Americans abandoned their ethnic ties. Milwaukee’s Deutscher Klub renamed itself the Wisconsin Club, and hundreds of ethnic Germans Americanized their names. The German Athens had become a shadow of its former self, and those who remained a part of the German cultural scene were left battered, bruised, and defensive.

A human interest story describing a quiet evening dealing a few hands of Schafkopf and enjoying some real beer, or perhaps a livelier story involving group singing or dancing to oom-pah music might put a human face on people who are, after all, neighbors, possibly co-workers, sometimes voters.

No, strike that.  Let's deploy the full culture-studies methodology in the fall of 1938 to "contextualize" North Americans who aren't troubled by the looting of businesses and the sacking of temples; who might perceive their overseas cousins as beset by internal disorder and external punishment.

THAT SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT.

"Karoline Leavitt Prepared For Motherhood After Spending Last Two Years Answering Millions Of Stupid Questions."

It's Babylon Bee stuff, and yet, it's spot on.  "At publishing time, Leavitt experienced déjà vu after listening both of her kids screaming whilst throwing simultaneous tantrums."

TRAINWRECK!

Sometimes, those online train-watching cameras catch an unusual occurrence.

I'm taking the rest of the day off.

LET THAT HARD RAIN FALL.

In the early years of Cold Spring Shops, I devoted a lot of attention to the ways in which universities were failing at their mission.  Twelve years into retirement, I don't have to bother as much with such things, although perhaps conditions have gotten sufficiently bad that people on the inside, or with establishmentarian platforms, can no longer ignore them.

TIME TO THINK OF A SUBWAY SERIES?

Wrigley Field and Comiskey Park, or whatever the White Sox got thirty pieces of silver for its current name, are both on the HoDar, which transits one of two short stretches of subway in Chicago.

But Chicago has gone from Mission Territory to birthplace of a Pope in under two centuries.

A century ago, George Cardinal Mundelein made the case for Chicago as home to the XXVIII International Eucharistic Congress, complete with a consecration of Soldier Field long before the Packers punched a ticket to the Super Bowl there.

The Archdiocese of Chicago scheduled a special Papal Installation Mass on the White Sox infield in 2025.

Now, the White Sox are going from worst to first, and Chicagoan Rick Moran is being cheeky.  "Chicago Native Pope Leo Is Being (Sort of) Credited With the Sudden Resurgence of the White Sox."

Then, the U.S. pope, a Chicago native and White Sox fan, arrived. White Sox fans finally had something to cheer about. While 2025 was a lost season, Leo-mania began to grow, and with it, the fortunes of the hapless White Sox began to improve.

After the 2026 season started 6-13, fans and the media believed another losing season was on the way. Then, a miracle. Or so it seemed. The second-youngest team in baseball began to knock the cover off the ball. Leading the way in the home run department was a Japanese import, Munetaka Murakami.

God Helps Thofe who Help Themfelves.

White Sox management have been attempting, subject to the constraints of protocol, to obtain some sort of papal blessing.

The White Sox have adopted Pope Leo as a kind of mascot. They wanted to have a bobblehead night with the pope dressed in his white cassock holding a White Sox bat. The Vatican politely declined. But the marketing geniuses at Rate Field were only getting warmed up.

“We’ve had sitting mayors of Chicago, we’ve had governors of Illinois that have been avid White Sox fans, we had a president of the United States in Barack Obama,” said Brooks Boyer, an observant Catholic who is the team’s chief marketing officer. “I didn’t expect anything bigger than the mayor when I started this job, but we’ve kind of climbed the ladder. What’s next? I mean, I feel like we’re one step away from God.”

Well, no, the hot line to God is in Green Bay, only a quarter to use the red 'phone on the General Manager's desk.

But White Sox management are not proposing the sort of deal that Cardinal Mundelein offered to his colleague Eugenio Cardinal Pacelli, who became Pius XII: during the War he offered the campus of St. Mary of the Lake as a refuge to the Vatican.  The Holy See, with plenty of experience doing business in Rome despite assorted Vandals, Visigoths, Huns, and heretics, stayed home.

DESPERATELY SEEKING A UNICORN.

In "Taxes Need a Rebrand," Michael Jarvis makes an argument straight out of the early days of the Clinton presidency, when Hillary was actually wearing the pants.  "Too often, tax is framed as a burden instead of a form of shared investment and discussed as a technical obligation rather than the foundation that allows modern societies to function."  Just reframe 'em as "contributions."  (Try not to think of George Lakoff.)

Too often, tax is framed as a burden instead of a form of shared investment. It is discussed as a technical obligation rather than the foundation that allows modern societies to function. Schools, healthcare systems, transportation networks, courts, emergency services, climate resilience measures, and public safety systems do not emerge on their own. They depend on sustained and predictable collective investment, and taxation remains the primary way societies make that investment possible.

You get your Common Dreams commentator card revoked if you even admit of the possibility that many of the items in that passage emerged through the discovery of trade-tested betterments.

IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE WEATHER, WAIT.

The Old Farmer's Almanac forecast is out, and the Great Lakes summary might be "expect anything."  "The almanac forecast predicts the northern Plains and Upper Midwest could be drier at times, 'especially when the southern storm track becomes dominant.' Still, intense cold, wind and snow are possible, with clippers, sudden cold snaps and snowy periods likely."  That should clarify things.

SIMPLICE! SIMPLICE! TOJOURS LE SIMPLICE!

For years, I've groused about overdesigned rotaries.  "The point of rotaries is to simplify traffic flow, and it defeats their purpose to provide multiple lanes."  My gripe is impressionistic, based on my frustration with Wisconsin's penchant for slip lanes and overhead signage.  "Too much nuance in the construction of a rotary defeats its purpose."  Consider, dear reader, when among all the government follies to mock on April Fools Day, the Wisconsin rotary gets dinged.  "Overdesigned rotaries make motorists mad, so much so that Right Wisconsin posted an April Fool capturing the spirit in Wisconsin, a state notorious for overdoing the channeling and signage of the rotaries."

The good news is that Charles "Strong Towns" Marohn has the traffic engineering expertise to ask the Credentialed Experts to reconsider.  "A dangerous Minnesota roundabout shows what happens when engineers preserve future traffic capacity at the expense of safety today."  For "dangerous," read "overdesigned."  "This story ends with drivers being blamed for failing to navigate a design that engineers have spent more than a decade trying (and failing) to make understandable, and engineers continuing to deprioritize safety, in spite of recent policy directing them to make it their first priority."

THE OBSCURE HISTORY OF THE WOMEN'S BASKETBALL SIDESHOW.

Indiana Fever reserve Sophie Cunningham has a history of standing up for herself and her teammates.  That's generally something for the court, but somehow the culture wars crop up.

Now, she's teasing a book.  It's probably not about recognizing junk defenses and providing subtle cues to get a teammate a better shot.

We, unfortunately, have precious few details at this point about what might be included in her "tell-all," but two likely topics are treatment of certain athletes by the WNBA and the delusional backlash at her wanting to protect girl athletes.

All those blue-haired weirdos who are showing up at games trying silence Sophie may want to be careful what they wish for, because if Cunningham really decides to open Pandora’s box, they might not like what comes spilling out.

It's been there all along, only the national media generally doesn't notice. Visualize a bench-clearing, fan-involved brawl at DePaul's old Alumni Hall.

ELEGANT REFUGES.

Years ago, the builders of vaudeville theaters and the earliest movie theaters offered more than a place to forget about life for a while.  The buildings would have some sort of exotic theming, the ceiling might have twinkling stars and the outline of a courtyard extending the balcony.  Some of the earliest air conditioning installations were in such theaters.  The arena might give the impression of an Arabian Night, without the heat and humidity.

A few such refuges remain, and Architectural Digest recently identified "The 9 Most Beautiful Historical Movie Theaters in the US."  Somebody could write a book.

“Theaters help bring people together to learn and laugh and just be in community,” says Benita VanWinkle, a photographer and associate professor of visual arts at High Point University in High Point, North Carolina. Theaters are also treasure troves of architectural brilliance, as evidenced in VanWinkle’s soon-to-be-released book America’s Hometown Movie Theaters: Please Remain Standing (Bauer & Dean Publishers, September 2026). The book features 395 theaters, all built before 1965, that VanWinkle has photographed while traveling the country for more than 40 years. In the process, VanWinkle also captured tales of resilience as communities have come together over the decades to preserve historical theaters. Her hope is that they remain, not just for design lovers, but as essential community gathering places. “Theaters have always been these places where we get to see a different version of ourselves and have a place together that doesn’t have judgment,” she says. “Most theaters have places to have discussions, share conversations, be educated, and be entertained.”

It's a challenge to narrow that list to a top nine.  Among the honorees are DeKalb's Egyptian Theatre, one of the few remaining Egyptian-inspired theaters (so inspired by the discovery of King Tut's tomb) in the United States.  The preservation group that own and operate the Egyptian recently installed air conditioning and a visitor center of sorts.  The Al Ringling Theater in Baraboo, Wisconsin, built by the eponymous circus magnate, also merited mention.  Children of all ages and their parents have a variety of offerings to choose among.

What many of the nine theaters have in common is their location in smaller cities, perhaps where the forces of creative destruction did not urge partitioning into multiplexes or replacement by something else.

I might have to look through the book, see if the surviving Milwaukee courtyard-themed theaters merited a photo.

JUST FINISH THINGS.

Sometimes, the right sort of air power can be persuasive.

That might not convince one Roland Oliphant, who in London's Telegraph offers "proof Iran won the war."

THANKS YET ANOTHER MILLION.

Two weeks ago the Google counter ticked past thirteen million, and overnight came the fourteenth million page view, with close onto a quarter of a million today.

I hope the data centers are mining nuggets, and that the live readers among that number are finding content that is informative or provocative or fun.

RESTORING THE CLASSIC WOODEN INTERURBAN.

After abandonment, the wooden cars of the Chicago Aurora and Elgin could be obtained cheaply, and Kuhlman car 315 made its way to the Rockhill Trolley Museum, which operates on a stretch of East Broad Top Railroad track, and after years of deliberation, that museum has been restoring that car to its as-built appearance.

Unattributed photo retrieved from Railfan and Railroad.

We recently noted Jewett-built car 316, similarly backdated, with a different paint scheme, at our nearby Fox River Trolley Museum.

Another Jewett car, 320 at the Old Threshers grounds in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, has also had its arch windows restored.

The Old Threshers hold their annual gathering Labor Day weekend, and the other preservation railways will be operating as summer winds down.

After Labor Day, the vintage cars might be back in the car barns for winter work.  Enjoy the remaining days of the preservation railway season.

LET THE KIDS PLAY.

Last week, Red State's Terri Christoph urged, "Leave Sophie Alone: Conservatives Don't Need to Co-Opt Cunningham."  Let her cook, and don't let's color her appeal by tying it to the "right's influencer ecosystem."  So too, suggests Dan Wolken, with her team-mate Caitlin Clark.  "Given a clear lane to weigh in and plant her flag on one side of the issue or the other, Clark did what she always does on an inflammatory topic: Hit the eject button as fast as she can."

As we noted in a previous post using the same headline, "In women's sports, though, you can claim not to be interested in the culture wars, but the culture wars are interested in you."  Red State's Jerry Wilson, for instance, would rather keep pushing.  "The WNBA Delivers a Glorious Opportunity to Preach the Conservative Evangel."

In part, he continues, because the league's coaches keep stepping in it.  That prompted Clay Travis, who, fittingly for a radio talker given the Rush Limbaugh franchise, demonstrated absurdity by being absurd.

That's boosted the morale of Militant Normals since he dropped his plan to staff a "WNBA" roster with crossers as well as his challenge to set up a charity match between the Las Vegas Aces and a high school boy's championship team, proceeds to go to Tunnel to Towers.

It might be, though, that Miss Cunningham wouldn't take much pushing to take a side.

It’s not clear when exactly Cunningham decided to make her political views her personality, though she’d been nicknamed MAGA Barbie as early as her college days at the University of Missouri, likely because she followed and interacted with Candace Owens and other conservative names on social media. Unfortunately for everyone, it seems her latest nightmare collab is with Riley Gaines, the biggest anti-trans gadfly for MAGA sports.

Yes, Riley Gaines is on board with the Militant Normals, and former sideline reporter Michelle Tafoya is running for United States Senate from Minnesota, and it might be that former Levi's executive and onetime gymnast Jennifer Sey will be pushed into that ambit.  It's more likely, though, that each of those women stands where she does because each was mugged by reality while the identity politics mob suggested there was nothing to see.

CONSPICUOUSNESS TRUMPS COMPETENCE.

In The Daily Economy, Surse Pierpoint asks, "If the economic argument was already lost by 1917, and the Soviet revolution supplied prestige rather than proof, what explains the durability of Marxist categories in Western universities, long after the calculation debate was settled and the planned economies it inspired had produced the most devastating body counts of the twentieth century?"

I've reduced his argument to a clickbaity headline.  Take a long march through the institutions, dear reader, and it might make sense.

What is not in dispute is the strategy itself and its adoption across the postwar academic left: if the economic argument could not be won, the institutions that credential, publish, and platform could be occupied instead.

This is where a discipline should ask an empirical question rather than an ideological one. Occupying an institution is not the same as running it well, and a strategy built around capturing credentialing bodies produces a specific, predictable personnel problem. Peter Turchin’s structural-demographic theory, developed across Ages of Discord and subsequent work, describes what happens when a society produces far more credentialed aspirants to elite status than there are elite positions to hold them: law graduates, doctorate holders, activist-class professionals, all competing for a fixed and often shrinking number of visible slots.

I'm not sure "better to be outrageous and wrong than extraordinarily good" works as a get-hired strategy, but there it is.  "Extremity is a cheap, reliable signal in a market where everyone already has the degree."

The author's focus is on the popularity of potted Marxism in domestic politics these days.  A variant of it might be at work in academic hiring, although perhaps it helps to be conspicuously controversial and to belong to one or another of the personnel office's set of preferred hires.