Mourning Pluto's banishment- a perfectly good mnemonic ruined

When I first started writing this post, there was talk of there possibly being 12 planets. I was against this idea, b/c it would totally throw off the ingenious mnemonic that generations of us learned our planets with:
My very educated mother just showed us nine planets.

I mean, how could you beat that in terms of a clever mnemonic? What do you do with the three extra planets?

But then I read this op-ed in the NYT (which you may not be able to read if you don't have access to Times Select--in which case, read it here.), and I was relieved.

The op-ed author proposes this silly mnemonic:
"my very energetic mother just served us nine pizzas, sans xenophobia"
which makes no sense whatsoever, but I was ready to accept this as a perfectly legitimate mnemonic. After all, how can you reject a non-xenophobic pizza (although it is unclear whether she is serving sans xenophobia, or whether the pizza comes without xenophobia. Of course, it could be that the energetic mother is without xenophobia, in which case, the grammatically correct way to rephrase this is: my very energetic mother, sans xenophobia, just served us nine pizzas. But we are kindof constrained by the order of the planets and thus must throw out any notion of grammatical scruples out the window. Alas.) ? Though this one only accounts for the possibility of 11 total.

Just when I convinced myself that I could live with this slightly bastardized version of the original mnemonic, I found out the very next day that Pluto is no longer a planet. Now, I know that the planetary commission has better things to do than to take mnemonics into consideration when voting on whether or not something is a planet, but this is just wrong.

So now we have neither non-xenophobic pizzas or nine planets, but:

My very educated mother just showed us nine

Nine what? You can't just leave us hanging.

My very educated mother just showed us nothing.

Ok, that completes the sentence, but that's so anticlimactic, and not nearly as thrilling as non-xenophobic pizzas or nine planets. I mean, what's the point of having a very educated mother, if she isn't going to show you anything?


My very esoteric mnemonic--just skewered, undid, (and) negated.
My very educational mnemonic just showed up nonchalantly.

Ok, does anyone have a better mnemonic sans pluto?

8/29 update:
So I posed an email query, and the best one so far (though it is off by one letter):
Mean vitriolic educated mother just shit-canned (o)ur ninth.
Thanks to Betsylan for this clever one!

Mozart was six when he composed this!

This was one of my favorite quotes during my recent travels to Central Europe. During a dinner conversation, one of the spouses who came along mentioned that when he was in college, he had a roommate who either played piano for fun or was a music major. One day, he overheard his roommate slam his music down after hours of practicing on the piano, and say, "Damnit. Mozart composed this when he was six, and I can't even play it right."

Well, join the club.

I shudder to think of all of the music that people composed when they were of a single digit age, that I cannot "get right" after hours and hours of practice.

I guess this is why some of us compose; others of us just play what others have composed; and then there are some of us who can't even proficiently play what others have composed (that would be me). . ..

I would just love to have a conversation with people who can compose such intricate things at the ripe young age of six. (Though actually, of the two, my preference is to meet Bach.)

More on fair-weathered diplomacy

Sometimes, you come across an op-ed that summarizes exactly what you are thinking, better than you could summarize-- which I guess is why some people write op-eds, and others just blog about these things.

This op-ed by Dan Froomkin in the Washington Post pretty much sums up my attitude towards this administration's non-diplomacy diplomacy. You know, the kind where they only talk to people they are on good terms with.

At a press conference devoted to the Middle East crisis, asked why Bush isn't pursuing direct talks with nations like Syria and Iraq, he comments:

Q Many strategists say that we'll never get to the bottom of this crisis unless the U.S. engages directly with Syria and Iran. Why not talk to them directly about this, and have a back-and-forth conversation?

THE PRESIDENT: Yes, that's an interesting question. I've been reading about that, that people have been posing that question. We have been in touch with Syria. Colin Powell sent a message to Syria in person. Dick Armitage traveled to Syria. Bill Burns traveled to Syria. We've got a consulate office in Syria. Syria knows what we think. The problem isn't us telling Syria what's on our mind, which is to stop harboring terror and to help the Iraqi democracy evolve. They know exactly what our position is. The problem is, is that their response hasn't been very positive. As a matter of fact, it hasn't been positive at all.

And in terms of Iran, we made it clear to the Iranians that if they would honor previous obligations and verifiably stop enrichment of nuclear materials, we would sit at a table. And so there's a way forward for both countries. The choice is theirs. Now, I appreciate people focusing on Syria and Iran, and we should, because Syria and Iran sponsor and promote Hezbollah activities -- all aimed at creating chaos, all aimed at using terror to stop the advance of democracies.
(Italics and emphasis mine.)

You know, if the world successfully operated based on what other people, countries (heck, your own parents and kids) "knows what we think", there wouldn't be a need for dialogue, diplomatic relations, etc. This is kind of an inane way to operate. I'm sure North Korea "knows what we think", just like parents must "know (what their kids) think" when then have that difficult conversation about not trying drugs. Does that deter them from testing missiles? Should the parent simply not have this talk with their children simply because they "know (what their kids) think?" Is knowledge ever legitimate grounds for not pursuing talks? Evidently, it is with this administration.

And it's not like this administration's knowlege has been terribly impressive thus far.

Then there are the faltering talks with Iran. The precondition for talks with Iran is for them to stop enrichment of nuclear materials. However, it's like the chicken and the egg argument. Iran is unlikely to stop enrichment, or answer to our government's quasi-ultimatums. "The choice is theirs," says both an impervious and imperious Bush.

But is it?

As this excellent article states, with a U.S. that is hell-bent (or at least it seems this way to the government of Iran) on destroying Iran, present in four of Iran's bordering nations, it's going to be a bit difficult to convince Iran to give up on uranium enrichment. I mean, let's imagine a world order where the U.S. weren't the superpower that it is. Instead, Iran is that superpower. Canada and Mexico own nuclear weapons and are both hostile to the U.S. Iran just waged war on the Christian minority living in Canada. In such a situation, were Canada or Mexico to demand that U.S. stop developing nuclear weapons technology, "or else", would the U.S. listen? We've just destroyed Iran's neighboring country, and we keep selling weapons to nations that are hostile to Iran, Syria, etc.

It doesn't really seem like we are giving Iran much of a "choice". And if he is indeed giving Iran a "choice", then what a dumb choice that is. Essentially, Bush is accepting no talks as an answer.

How is this productive diplomacy? Or even still, how does this constitute diplomacy at all, to return to the point made in Froomkin's op-ed?

The OED defines diplomacy as:

1. The management of international relations by negotiation; the method by which these relations are adjusted and managed by ambassadors and envoys; the business or art of the diplomatist; skill or address in the conduct of international intercourse and negotiations.

Well, according to this definition, what the Bush administration is doing hardly constitutes diplomacy. You can't reason with terrorists, but it seems like you can't reason much with this administration, either.

Hallmark friendships

A few weeks before leaving for Hungary, a "friend" from grade school called and left a long message about how she recently got engaged. I'm supposed to call her to catch up with her, but am finding it difficult to call her. Not that I'm not happy for her-- that's wonderful news, and I am excited for her. However, ours has lapsed into what I will term a "hallmark" friendship-- meaning, we--well, she-- seems to only want to be in touch when there is some sort of "big news", whether good or bad.

It wasn't always like this. But I made the mistake of speaking my mind.

I don't always do this, but every so often, either my friends irk me to the point of my needing to express annoyance, or a series of unfortunate combination of events lead me to be sensitive about things that alone wouldn't ordinarily bother me.

So in this particular case, this "friend" kept on forwarding me annoying emails. I really dislike excessive forwards. The list of 101 ways to annoy your roommate really stopped being funny after the 10th person sent it to me during freshman year in college. (I also hate when I have to ask for something more than three times.) Plus, all too often, I find that people use this as a substitute way of seeming to keep in touch, instead of taking the time to occasionally write me an actual email with substance.

I asked her once to not send me every single forward she got. And when I say forwards, I don't mean getting a joke or something silly every now and then. I forward these too. No, it was more like getting inane jokes several times a day. The first time, I used the tactic of nonchalance. (Hey, no big deal, but please XYZ.) She stopped for a while, and then resumed. I asked a second time. This time, I used humor. And then another time. (This time, I asked directly.) When it still didn't stop, I think I sent her a sarcastic email about the kinds of forwards I really don't like to receive. It was right after she or another mutual friend had sent me the forward about if you send this email to all ten billion of your friends, Bill Gates will give you two thousand dollars.

Not to sound disdainful, but in addition to being already annoyed about my multiple ignored pleas, I think I was more annoyed that someone would be stupid enough to send me a forward about Bill Gates doling out $2000 to people. Did people not take Econ 101 in college?

Anyway, the outcome of this was that my friend-- a friend of over 12 years at the time--got extremely annoyed. Fine. Understandable. Even though I was kind of miffed at having to ask her more than three or four times. I let her have her own space, though every so often, I'd check back in to see if she was still mad at me.

But what I didn't--and still don't--understand was that long after I tried to re-patch our relationship, resume our normal course of friendship and move past this silly episode, she continued to harbor a grudge. Things were never quite the same after that.

Maybe it was my stupidity for speaking my mind-- but a)she annoyed me past the point where I could keep quiet about it, and b)I was kindof banking on the fact that we had been friends for such a long time--half of our then-lifetime, to be exact--that if our friendship was actually significant to her (as it was to me) we'd eventually get over this. I certainly did, after a week or two. Also, c) siblings and family members fight all of the time, but then at some point, it's a given that you make up. Furthermore, d) she is allegedly a practicing Roman Catholic, and they're supposed to be into the whole forgiveness thing. So for all of these reasons, I was expecting to "resume" our status quo friendship after I let her fume for a bit. Well, it turns out that I overestimated the bonds of our then-twelve-year friendship. Also, it takes two people to make up, so no matter how willing I may be to move past this, it's really not possible if she's not willing, and she wasn't.

It's not that she ever explicitly stated this, but she slowly stopped responding to my emails. No matter how hard I tried to resume our pre-confrontation status, she was oddly distant. And every once in a while (even as recently as a year ago), she'd send me an email, and then preface it with an emotionally laden, "I know you *HATE* forwards, but I thought I'd send this along since . . .." Talk about baggage. It's been about ten years since we've had our altercation. Although I might tend to have a short fuse, I don't like expending energy to stay mad at people or hold grudges for that long a period. So I really don't understand people who harbor such strong feelings for years. (And I'm not even a regularly churchgoing Catholic like she is.)

We never resumed the several-times-a-week emails. Getting her to call me back when I called her or reply to my emails was like pulling teeth. When we did talk, although she pretended to be happy to hear from me and we'd "catch up", the conversation was strained and superficial. The birthday cards that used to come religiously on my birthday were at first, just tardy, and then eventually stopped coming altogether. She'd always email a week later to wish me a happy birthday, and then apologize for not sending a card because of xyz reason, but when someone has been sending you birthday cards on your birthday since you were twelve, it's simply not the same.

So fast forward about ten years, and we've gone from emailing each other several times a week to this odd situation where we go for nearly a year without talking/emailing, and then she calls me out of the blue to tell me that she's "gotten engaged!" and "We have a lot to catch up on!!" And I'm supposed to eagerly call her back and squeal with excitement as if we're blood sisters.

Except that when I got her message, it felt more like a vague stranger telling me that she had gotten engaged.

The problem with friends is that whereas with family, it's usually a given that you'll eventually make up--perhaps because circumstances necessitate it--you just don't know how friends will react to bumps in the road, such as a confrontation. Take this friend. She seemed like the easygoing type, and for 12 years, there were no rocks or bumps in our friendship. But our "friendship" as I see it ended up not surviving our first (and only) "bump".

And thus, it's been relegated to a "Hallmark" status relationship where we update each other on major news-- engagements, marriages, babies. This is the kind of "friendship" that I have difficulty maintaining, because I don't like superficiality and don't like being fake. I'm simply a lousy actor.

I'd rather be in-your-face and direct than be polite and fake, but it seems that sometimes, even the best of your friends really can't take direct. (And then you resort to blogging about it.) But then, what kind of a friendship is that when one can't be direct about one's feelings without it affecting the friendship in the long run?

Am I expecting too much of a friendship to expect that a good one (as this one was) will be solid enough to overcome an occasional altercation/confrontation/moment of tension? It's not like I confront people on a weekly, monthy, even annual basis.

If I can't make the occasional "you've irked me"' statement to my friends without it adversely affecting our relationship, then perhaps it's no wonder that our president's definition of diplomacy is to engage in conversation with only those nations that he doesn't find contentious or he is not currently irked at.

Hallmark diplomacy. . ..