I’ve been troubled for some time about the careless use of certain words in public discourse. In some cases, it’s pure laziness about language. In other cases, words can be twisted as a deliberate obfuscation or to reframe the terms of debate.

With this feature, I intend to reclaim for the English language and civilized discourse a few of the words that have been hijacked for political and/or other nefarious purposes. I’m thinking that this will be a weekly feature to replace the old Headline Game on Wednesdays.

The word of the week is support.

Here it is in context:

Ryan Gill, operations director for Move America Forward, said he disliked the anti-war groups’ strategy and said groups like his that support the war and especially support the troops didn’t plan on adding to Wednesday’s “circus atmosphere.”

Do you support the war in Iraq?

Before you answer, ask yourself what it means to support the war. Does it mean that you are rooting for our side to win? Does it mean that you think the war was a good idea? Does it mean that you think we should keep our troops there longer? Does it mean that your tax dollars are paying for the war? Each of these meanings could be intended by “support the war” and yet we use the term like it has a uniform meaning for everyone.

I was against the war from the beginning. I am not in favor of pulling our troops out immediately. I am not in favor of leaving our troops there for a hundred years. My tax dollars most certainly are paying for the war. I would like us to be successful there. I think President Bush is not a good president. I am disappointed by those on the left who seem to gloat over failures in Iraq. I am disappointed by those on the right who use successes in Iraq to attack the patriotism of those on the left. I am in awe of the bravery of our troops and want them to succeed in their mission and come home safely.

So with all that in mind, do I support the war?

The word has a different meaning in “support the troops” as it does in “support the president’s policy” and the current administration has a huge stake in using language like “support the war” which seems to conflate the two. Let’s stop doing that.

And reading back over this post, I can see already that “war” needs to go on the Word of the Week list. Yeah, this needs to be a regular feature. We’ll see how it goes, but I’ll probably keep this going at least through the election. Things are going to get very silly, very soon. Words will be used as weapons, and we need to stay vigilant.

I invite my readers to take this awareness test and discuss in the comments:

You can say anything you want:

For hundreds of years, people have questioned whether William Shakespeare wrote the plays that bear his name. The mystery is fueled by the fact that his biography simply doesn’t match the areas of knowledge and skill demonstrated in the plays. Nearly a hundred candidates have been suggested, but none of them fit much better. Now a new candidate named Amelia Bassano Lanier - the so-called ‘Dark Lady’ of the Sonnets and a member of an Italian/Jewish family - has been shown to be a perfect fit.

Via the Shakespeare Geek, who is kind enough to suspect that the whole thing is a put on.

It’s been a while since we’ve had a Question of the Week. Fans of the site may recall that the Question of the Week was originally inspired by the Edge Foundation’s annual question, asked to leading thinkers. This year, their question is “What have you changed your mind about? Why?”

For me, I’d have to go with Wikipedia. When I first heard about the open source encyclopedia, I scoffed. It was one thing for the Internet to allow anyone to post their opinions, but quite another to trust the general public to get encyclopedia-style facts right. Without authors putting their names on their work, the information would be worthless.

But as I started using Wikipedia, I found it to be an invaluable resource. I assured myself that I wasn’t really using it, only using it as a casual reference. But over time, I was surprised to find it a source I could rely on. Of course, it’s not always accurate, and I still couldn’t see myself actually citing it as a source in a publication, but it’s way more reliable than any of us would have had a right to expect.

The tipping point for me was reading Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen. I was expecting this to be a madcap trivia book of fun facts about American history that never made the textbook. Not so much, no. Instead, it was a detailed historiography of twelve American history textbooks and how they knowingly distort and obfuscate their subject matter. After that, I could no longer consider Wikipedia to be inferior to the textbooks we’ve been giving students all this time. I would actually trust a fact in Wikipedia over one in a textbook if they were in conflict.

But it’s not just facts; Wikipedia is also superior when it comes to point-of-view. I laughed at their value-neutral philosophy, because such a thing isn’t possible. At least, it’s not possible where there’s a single author. But in the negotiated definitions of Wikipedia, there is a natural balance of viewpoints that really gives the readers a sense of the range of opinions on a particular issue, often just as valuable (if not more so) than the dry facts. Even fake controversies seem to be quickly expunged from its pages.

I’ve changed my mind about Wikipedia. How about you?

What have you changed your mind about? Why?

Bing Miller put me on his meme list, which is kind of like the blog version of a chain letter.

Post a picture or make/take/create your own that captures what YOU are most passionate about for kids to learn about and give your picture a short title.
Title your blog post “Meme: Passion Quilt” and link back to this blog entry.
Include links to 5 folks in your professional learning network

So I’ve thought about it, and I decided to go with this image of the Globe theatre stage.

I want my students to understand that they can be performers in the world and not just audience members. I want them to understand that they can write things that affect other people. I want them to know they can have a voice in the world. I want them to learn that they way things are now isn’t the way things have always been, so they can understand that things don’t always have to be the way they are now.

My title is “Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem.” All the world’s a stage.

I invite Benjamin, Kenneth, Lee, Mike, and Ro to continue the conversation if it would please them to do so.

President Bush now has a job approval rating of 19 percent.

How bad is that? Even sugared gum was signed off on by one out of five dentists. That’s 20 percent.

His job approval is only 14 percent on the economy. The remaining 5 percent who gave him a thumbs-up overall must have been dazzled by the undeniably admirable job he’s been doing managing the Iraq situation.

Paul Krugman has a compelling post about the old canard that cutting taxes increases revenue. I’ve heard Giuliani spouting this line on the campaign trail, pandering to the Club for Growth crowd.

This seems to me to be a conservative fantasy, a cynical ploy to appeal to people who are so opposed to paying their taxes that they are willing to abandon the most basic logic. Surely we can all agree that if we cut taxes down to zero, then we will take in less revenue. Therefore, it must follow that there is a point beyond which cutting taxes cannot increase revenue.

I do understand the economics behind the principle. Cutting taxes leads to more disposable income for consumers, which leads to greater demand for goods and services, which leads to increased demand for labor, which leads to increased employment and wages, which creates more overall income to be taxed. However, in this age when outsourcing of labor is on the rise, and America is importing more goods than it is exporting, that chain seems to have a few weak links.

TIME Washington bureau correspondent Michael Scherer reminds us what’s wrong with American politics today:

Here’s one thing you need to know about John McCain. He’s always been the coolest kid in school. He was the brat who racked up demerits at the Naval Academy. He was the hot dog pilot who went back to the skies weeks after almost dying in a fire on the U.S.S. Forrestal. His first wife was a model. His second wife was a rich girl, 17 years his junior. He kept himself together during years of North Vietnamese torture and solitary confinement. When he sits in the back of his campaign bus, we reporters gather like kids in the cafeteria huddling around the star quarterback. We ask him tough questions, and we try to make him slip up, but almost inevitably we come around to admiring him. He wants the challenge. He likes the give and take. He is, to put it simply, cooler than us.

It’s hard to tell if he’s serious or not. Either this is a brilliantly insightful parody of a major problem with American mass media today, or a particuarly egregious example of that problem. Analysis of the process by which we choose the leader of the free world shouldn’t be reduced to the level of high school social politics.

And yet, that’s exactly what we see in the media. John McCain seems to be the chosen one, and enjoys favorable media coverage even though voters seem largely indifferent to him.

And while we were all at the pep rally, oil futures hit $100 a barrel, we developed a huge trade defecit, and another year has gone by in Iraq claiming the lives of almost a thousand American soldiers and over twenty thousand Iraqi civilians.

Remember, many Americans voted for George W. Bush in 2000 because he was the candidate they most wanted to have a beer with. Al Gore was seen as too stuffy and a know-it-all. Are we really ready to make the same mistake again?

This is pretty funny.

Robert Reed, who played Mike Brady on The Brady Bunch, was apparently in the habit of sending lengthy memos to the show’s producers about problems he had with the scripts.  Here’s an excerpt of one such memo:

It is a long since proven theorem in the theatre that an audience will adjust its suspension of belief to the degree that the opening of the presentation leads them. When a curtain rises on two French maids in a farce set discussing the peccadilloes of their master, the audience is now set for an evening of theatre in a certain style, and are prepared to accept having excluded certain levels of reality. And that is the price difference in the styles of theatre, both for the actor and the writer–the degree of reality inherent. Pure drama and comedy are closest to core realism, slapstick and fantasy the farthest removed. It is also part of that theorem that one cannot change styles midstream. How often do we read damning critical reviews of, let’s say, a drama in which a character has “hammed” or in stricter terms become melodramatic. How often have we criticized the “mumble and scratch” approach to Shakespearean melodrama, because ultra-realism is out of place when another style is required. And yet, any of these attacks could draw plaudits when played in the appropriate genre.

You really need to read the whole thing.

Look, Reed’s not wrong, and it’s admirable that he’s such a professional that he would apply the same standards of excellence to playing Mike Brady as he would apply to playing Iago.  It’s probably a point of pride to him to do so.  However, he could probably stand to take a bit of his own advice.  The tone of his memo is entirely inappropriate for what it is.  It comes across merely as grandstanding and intellectual bullying.

Via the Shakespeare Geek, who doesn’t grant the premise.

Yesterday on This Week, George Stephanopoulos cited a “stunning” statistic from the Congressional Budget Office:

From 2003 to 2005, the increase in income for the top one percent exceeded the total income of the bottom twenty percent.

Turn that over in your mind for a moment before we move on to the Question of the Week, which comes to us via the Hoover Institute, a conservative think-tank at Stanford University.

How much does the gap between rich and poor matter? In 1979, for every dollar the poorest fifth of the American population earned, the richest fifth earned nine. By 1997, that gap had increased to fifteen to one. Is this growing income inequality a serious problem? Is the size of the gap between rich and poor less important than the poor’s absolute level of income? In other words, should we focus on reducing the income gap or on fighting poverty?

It’s a fair point. Do rising waters raise all ships? And if so, does it matter if the rich get richer faster than the poor get richer? Or is income inequity really the problem, and a bigger slice of the pie for the rich means less for everyone else? And is it okay to mix ship and pie metaphors when talking about economics? I guess what I’m asking is this:

Does the income gap matter?