Nights have gotten much colder this week--we've even had frost warnings. Two weeks ago was the summer's last hurrah, I guess. I wonder how long these temperatures will hold; more importantly, I wonder how much rain we'll get this year.

Yesterday I wore a sleeveless undershirt and a sweater vest because I knew it was chilly but didn't want to overdress and be too warm. Mid-morning I traded the sweater vest for a wool sweater. Today I wore a long-sleeved undershirt and the sweater vest is just enough. I wore a jacket for my walk today but I ended up carrying it home. There's less of a breeze than yesterday, though the sky is just as clear and blue.

D is out in the yard, sitting on the bench under the peach tree, cleaning pomegranates. That seems quintessentially autumnal.

So we have different bureaus in our Division that specialize in various programs. Some of these bureaus issue annual reports on the same day every year but can't manage their schedules, so everything hits my unit at the same time. Others have managers who don't review their written material before it comes to my unit, so we have to decipher unclear and poorly written language. And others have managers who are uncommunicative and resistant to suggested edits. These unfortunates are the Problem Children.

My unit is small--Senior Editor, who's been at State Agency for a decade or more; me; Junior Editor, who's been at the agency for four years and was a Word Processor when I hired on; Problematic WP, who isn't always tactful and sometimes leaves unhelpful comments when processing documents; New WP, who joined us in May; and our boss, who has technically been our Grand-Boss since she got promoted last year. State Agency wasn't immediately able to fill the direct-supervisor position for various bureaucratic reasons. Senior Editor is about a decade older than I am; I'm 45; Jr. Ed. just turned 30 in March; Problematic WP is in her 30s. I haven't met New WP in person because he's based in SoCal, but I think he's in his 30s too. Grand-Boss might be 40? I can't remember. Anyway, our unit is small, mostly female, and comparatively young. This is fine, but in May, Jr. Ed. was promoted into the direct supervisor position.

Boss/Jr. Ed. is great; I really like her, and we worked very well together when we were in the office. But since we've been working remotely, she hasn't managed to maintain the same standard of communication that we had when we were in our neighboring cubes. We've already had one discussion about how sometimes, when I send her a request for guidance, I don't hear back from her for an hour or more--by which point I usually find it necessary to take the exact action that I requested guidance on, because business interests don't support further delay, and then I just have to wait and hope that nothing will blow up. She said she understood; she apologized for not being available; and she promised to do better. She also promised that if she didn't have an immediate answer to a question, she would let me know that she was looking into the matter. That seemed like the perfect resolution to the situation!

Well, yesterday she reverted to her former non-communicative state. Annoyingly enough, it coincided with some bad behavior on the part of two different Problem Children.

Several months ago I returned a chapter to one of the Problem Children, asking for clarification on a confusing and poorly-written paragraph that talked about subordinating the public good for personal gain. "Subordinate" is one of those verbs that requires a direct object--in other words, something is subordinated to something else. When the draft came back to me for second version, the Problem Children had neglected to respond to these questions during their review. The only reason this was just mildly frustrating instead of being an insurmountable obstacle is that in the meantime several other projects took precedence.

Yesterday I was able to return to the chapter, and again came to a screeching halt on that meaningless paragraph. I finally realized that it was so poorly written that maybe it came from another source; I decided to do an internet search for "subordination of judgment" just in case. I found the AICPA's Code of Professional Conduct, which contained a definition of that term and several related principles. I enjoyed about 30 seconds of triumphant elation, because I had found a primary source! that defined special terms! and was searchable! After that, reality set in; the paragraph is so poorly written that I kept bouncing off it. I returned the chapter to the back burner.

Meanwhile I was reviewing two different reports that raised some questions. One report didn't include what seemed like an important recipient in the cc: list, so I emailed Boss/Jr. Ed. to ask for clarification. The other report changed some template language that we just updated and improved last year, so I sent her another email requesting background info. In the meantime I tried to find out what I could about the cc: list--I found enough to indicate that nobody was missing, so I returned that report to program. That done, I tried to continue reviewing the other report...but it's for another of the Problem Children, and this Problem Child rejected necessary edits.

These particular reports always discuss cost components, but in this case the cost component names are almost a sentence by themselves, and they were inserted into the narrative without consideration of fit or ease of reading. On top of that, the Problem Child didn't use consistent wording or title case for the cost component names--so it was a little difficult to separate the cost component from the enclosing sentence. I suggested short names, properly introduced in parens at the first usage of each cost component name, and rephrased for clarity.

The Problem Child insisted that the audited entity knows what the terminology means and isn't familiar with the new terms, and asked me to restore the full cost component names. This was really odd, because we've used short names for cost components before. In fact, the Children usually coin the short names themselves, and throw them into the narrative without introduction. We're left to pick up the pieces, figure out whether they're talking about a cost component, and if so, which one, and then introduce the short name properly. And our house style has always been to ensure that the general public--not just the audited entities--can read and understand our reports; the "entity already knows what we mean" argument doesn't hold water.

Some days I would just insist that no, for clarity and transparency we need to use these short names. But yesterday I didn't have the spoons to deal with a potential argument with Problem Children, so I emailed Boss/Jr. Ed. requesting her advice just after noon.

Also related to the lack of spoons, yesterday morning was very trying. To have to keep jumping between three different documents, and being unable to finish reviewing them, was incredibly frustrating. It was much easier to respond to a question about Italian grammar on Reddit. I'd spend five minutes or so on a document, hit a wall, type a little on Reddit, and go back to the document for another ten minutes.

After lunch, I hadn't received anything new to work on, and there was nothing more I could do with what I already had...so I ended up writing yesterday's post.

Boss/Jr. Ed. responded to the email about the cc: list in mid-afternoon, and her response raised other questions that led to an hour or so of trying to determine how many reports had been sent out without an essential recipient included in the cc: list (three, it turns out). After that was dealt with, I emailed her to ask if she'd had a chance to consider my question on the short names. She didn't get back to me before COB.

This morning I still hadn't received any new reports, nor had I received a response from Boss/Jr. Ed., so I went back to the chapter. The badly-written paragraph was still meaningless, so I searched the Code more closely. I found that the paragraph had been lifted wholesale from two specific paragraphs in the "Integrity" section. I added the necessary introductions and provenance to the chapter, left a comment explaining plagiarism to the Problem Children, and spent the next hour ironing.

Look, I was beyond frustrated with the Problem Chidren; the report I'm working on is on hold until I receive guidance from Boss/Jr. Ed.; and ironing was a heck of a lot more constructive than spending more time on Reddit.

While I was ironing, Boss/Jr. Ed. emailed to say that she was looking into the short names issue and the changed language. That was four hours ago...nothing since.

If I don't hear from her by 2:30 I'm just going to have to email her and ask her to respond ASAP if I shouldn't do as usual and insist on the short names. I'm beginning to regret that I ever sent the email requesting guidance!

Did everyone else already know that Sacha Baron Cohen went to Cambridge? I had no idea! Andrew Paul's article in the AV Club covers the new Borat film, mentions that Baron Cohen wrote his undergraduate thesis on the American Civil Rights Movement, and discusses Baron Cohen's op-ed in Time magazine. Even if you don't have time to catch up on all things Borat (or, like me, are only mildly interested in the character), We Must Save Democracy From Conspiracies is an op-ed well worth reading.

Slate published a piece of satire I can really get behind--an endorsement for Trump, from the fly that perched on Mike Pence's head during the vice presidential debate.

You may be confused as to why I am offering an endorsement in the first place, since most Americans share molecular physicist Seth Brundle’s pernicious misconception that “insects don’t have politics.” It’s true that we’re not big on compromise, but it’s also true that we love garbage, and we love corpses, and we love shit, and you don’t have to have one of those big ugly mammalian brains to tell which political party is committed to materially improving our lives.

OTOH I'm appalled because the article presents such a well-reasoned case for supporting Trump; but then again, only an agent of Beelzebub could rationally support the man.

Yesterday was the first day on which vote-by-mail ballots could be mailed to California voters.

We received postcards asking us to confirm our address and our intention to vote by mail in mid-September; then we received a postcard informing us of the vote-by-mail process a week later; sometime in September we received the voter information guide. I'm not sure how long it usually takes for us to receive our actual ballots. I've been a little nervous about this particular election, for reasons that I won't expand on at this juncture, so I was kind of wondering how long we'd have to wait.

I just got the usual email from USPS letting me know that I have mail and packages arriving today, and today's notice--unlike usual--doesn't include pictures of junk mail that I'd rather not receive in the first place. Instead, it has three glorious pictures of our vote-by-mail ballots.

Our mail carrier usually serves our neighborhood in late afternoon, so tonight I'll take a stroll to the mailbox and pick up our ballots. I probably won't finish all the necessary research before the end of the week, because dear lord were there a lot of propositions on the California ballot!, but hopefully we'll be able to vote this weekend and return our ballots on Monday.

I'm really impressed with USPS. Like, in general, but especially at the moment because the volume of election mail this year is going to be epic.

Rachel Maddow (video, 6:41) points out that 45 wanted the debate to be a clusterf*ck. It's part of a strategy to convince US citizens that politics is a nasty business that no decent person would take an interest in. It's the same strategy employed by authoritarian rulers around the world.

She notes that 45's rhetoric is meant to make us believe that our democracy is in a shambles, that our vote won't count, that the election will be decided in the courts or on the streets.

The president wants us to believe that American democracy doesn't apply this year. Not when he's going to lose if American democracy does its normal work in regular order. Learn what regular order is in your life, in your state. Keep your chin up. Defend the system, or he'll crush it. We've got less than five weeks to go. You got this.

Since last Thursday, I've been trying to figure out how to tell when a state is succumbing to authoritarianism. I've been trying to figure out if there's a clear and definite marker, a "do not pass Go" moment, demonstrating that a state doesn't just fail to provide equal protection under the law and represent its citizens, but actively wants to harm specific groups and subjugate its people.

Because we've had travel bans, separation of families seeking asylum, and various demonstrations of bigotry since 45 took office. No matter how loudly US citizens announced these practices, they've continued. And it seems like every time 45 does yet another questionable or obviously reprehensible thing, nobody in the administration is willing to act against him. Maybe we were hoping, months ago, for a Saturday Night Massacre (NPR, 6 minute audio; transcript available) like during the Nixon administration--but we aren't hoping for that any longer.

I've been viewing 45 as a dictator-in-waiting; I've seen his actions as those of yet another power-mad megalomaniac, like Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Pinochet, Ceaușescu, or Pol Pot. I've been interpreting 45's statements and actions, and the administration's failure to rein him in, as confirmation that democracy was failing.

Of course the situation is unbelievable--how could this grand experiment fail? But authoritarian states throughout history have done a lot of "unbelievable" things. Just because something is "unbelievable" doesn't mean it didn't actually happen.

How can you tell when yet another awful unbelievable thing is about to happen? For the average person, trying to predict the next unbelievable thing feels like trying to divine the truth when all the information you have is either conspiracy theories, the ravings of doomsday prophets, or lifted from a Kafka novel.

Maddow's commentary reminded me that 45 is a con man. His first strategy is always going to be flimflam. That's not to say that we shouldn't be concerned; maybe he will run out and shoot someone on 42nd Avenue. We know he tells the truth sometimes. So we do need to pay attention (YouTube, 0.30 clip from The Wizard of Oz), and watch what he does. But we need to remember that we aren't powerless, and that one humbug isn't actually capable of destroying democracy unless we let him.

I'm heart-sick and terrified and furious and exhausted.

For one thing, 45 has authoritarian leanings. For another, his supporters don't have a problem with that. Rich Benjamin, posting at the Intercept, writes:

Under some delusion, many Democrats and liberals have expected each new whistleblower’s report, each insider’s memoir to expose Trump’s corruption so shockingly, so unequivocally, as to make his supporters see the light. But the sooner these politicos understand that Trump’s supporters don’t care about his autocracy, the better the liberals can go about the business of trying to win this election....

Ours is a country where the president can witness 5-million-plus acres burn, millions of residents flee their homes, miles of toxic air blight the sky, blackouts, triple-digit heat waves, and literally not be bothered. We have a leader who knew the deadliness of a virus, lied about his awareness, and still indifferently presides over the subsequent deaths of 200,000 and counting. Even during the country’s bleak distress, Trump supporters — from his cabinet down to ordinary, diehard voters — put his money and their collective political power ahead of human life, undoubtedly a fundamental feature of autocracy....

New research reveals the extent to which authoritarian impulses have found a significant grounding in the Republican base. According to new survey data from Larry Bartels of Vanderbilt University, slightly over half of Republican voters — both self-identified Republicans and independents who lean toward the party — strongly or somewhat agree with the statement that “the traditional American way of life is disappearing so fast that we may have to use force to save it.” And roughly 2 in 5 Republican or independent voters agree that “a time will come when patriotic Americans have to take the law into their own hands.” And a whopping three-fourths agree that “it is hard to trust the results of elections when so many people will vote for anyone who offers a handout.”

We're almost certainly going to have a contested election. Voice of America sums it up:

Experts predict nearly 80 million people will vote by mail this year, and recent polling indicates that nearly twice as many Democrats as Republicans will send in absentee ballots.

Trump, who is trailing in national presidential polls, has repeatedly – and without evidence – denounced mail-in voting as fraudulent and a scam. Many states have expanded absentee voting during the coronavirus pandemic to reduce the potential for spreading the highly contagious and deadly disease.

But even if we all went to the polls on Election Day, even if Biden won a landslide victory, we could not be assured that 45 would accept the results. Barton Gellman, writing for The Atlantic, goes into detail:

The worst case, however, is not that Trump rejects the election outcome. The worst case is that he uses his power to prevent a decisive outcome against him. If Trump sheds all restraint, and if his Republican allies play the parts he assigns them, he could obstruct the emergence of a legally unambiguous victory for Biden in the Electoral College and then in Congress. He could prevent the formation of consensus about whether there is any outcome at all. He could seize on that un­certainty to hold on to power.

Obviously, I am not a fan of 45. But I say with all seriousness: if the positions were reversed--if Biden was president, and he refused to guarantee a peaceful transition of power; if he stated that he would not accept the results of the election if he didn't win--I would be just as disturbed. This isn't a partisan issue. This is a constitutional issue.

1. “When people show you who they are, believe them.” —Maya Angelou

2. “When a head of state...with authoritarian tendencies tells you they intend to do something outrageous like not accept a peaceful transition after an election, something President Trump said yesterday, you should believe them.” —Senator Chris Coons (D, Delaware)

so this morning I was working quietly

(Image: my desk in front of the window, with the work laptop and ergonomic accessories [standing desk, keyboard, and mouse] necessary to function)

and the office was in total chaos

(Image: my "office" circa 10 a.m. this morning: unmade bed; iPad not charging; dogs and cats living together.* [*This is a pop culture reference and should not be taken to mean that any dogs or cats appear in the picture.])

On a normal day, I get up, start up the work computer and enter the 50 necessary pass-codes, wash and dress, and have breakfast before I start "work." Just before 8 a.m., I log in, check my email, and if there's nothing urgent then I make my bed and put on makeup. (It's a morale thing. I'm also wearing real clothes.)

Yesterday, I had 15 items in my inbox at the beginning of the day. I made my bed before noon and I think I put on makeup at around 10:30 a.m., during my morning break. I don't think I actually remembered to take my afternoon break. At the end of the day, I had reviewed 2 large reports and accumulated another three or four documents for review.

This morning, I had 17 items in my inbox. I needed to finish the document that I spent most of yesterday reviewing (it was truly heinous); I also had four high-priority reports to review; and I kept getting emails. I literally received two emails on a subject while I was replying to a previous email on that same subject. (Why can't people wait 5-10 minutes for an email? if everything we send via our agency's email client may become a public record, then shouldn't we take more than 30 seconds to put things in writing?)

I took a break from the heinous document in a fit of pique and put on makeup just before 9 a.m. Then I reviewed a document that had been neglected since 16 September, replied to another two emails on the same blasted subject, and went back to the heinous report. At around 11 a.m. I realized that I still hadn't made my bed, and it was really messing with the feng shui of my room, so I stopped and made the bed.

am I the only one trying to adult today?

so back in the day when I was studying computer engineering, I had student loans that I could keep in deferral only if I was enrolled half-time (6 units per semester) and there was no way I could have managed two solid classes a semester. At least, not while working ~20 hours a week and maintaining the required C grade average. My solution was, of course, to enroll in a 3-credit elective course--social dance, otherwise known as ballroom dancing.

I started with two left feet and eventually learned how to foxtrot, waltz, Lindy Swing, cha cha, rhumba, and salsa with acceptable grace. There is nothing quite so exhilarating as a fast Viennese waltz, and Lindy Swing is a lot of fun, but like Benny Moré says, Me Gusta Más el Son. (What can I say, I'm a sucker for Afro-Cuban percussion.)

We always started class with a foxtrot--usually Frank Sinatra singing "I've Got You Under My Skin" or Dean Martin's "Ain't That a Kick in the Head." At first I thought it was annoying, but it became a kind of relaxing ritual. After awhile I learned to appreciate the foxtrot's remarkable ability to be danced with everything from Hank Williams Sr. to bebop (if the beat cooperates); and I finally appreciated Sinatra's singing enough to explore his repertoire.

I've got five of his albums in a playlist in permanent rotation. It's really good background music for work. For one thing, Sinatra's range is quite good; his phrasing is unparalleled; and his expressiveness is up to the task of the many moods in the "great American songbook." Just catching a few lines of "The Coffee Song" or "How About You" cheers me up to a ridiculous degree; even the sad songs like "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning" are soothing.

But dear lord, some of the songs he covered are terrible. I'm not talking about dumb lyrics--that happens, and if the chord progression and setting are good enough they can save a song with bad lyrics. I'm talking about misogyny, sexism, and all that delightful baggage you'd expect from American popular culture in mid-20th century. Never mind obvious, godawful stuff like "Wives and Lovers" (nope, not linking to it; here's a post about the song that sums it up nicely, though) and "Put Your Dreams Away" (here's Frank singing it on TV, and I think the delivery perfectly sums up what a bad bargain this arrangement would be); I'm talking about the mindset revealed by such classics as "The Tender Trap" and "Witchcraft".

Sometimes I'm perfectly capable of enjoying the music without experiencing a deep, feminist rage but today is not one of those days. I'mma switch over to the Clash now.

I really miss Joe Strummer.

At my old job (a.k.a. budget development hell), I used to have a sign reading:
أنا لااتكلم اللغة الإنجليزية
(Ana la atakellum al-lughat al-ingliziyya)

which is formal standard Arabic for "I don't speak the English language." I used to post it on moderately bad days. On slightly worse days, I'd post the sign that said roughly the same thing in Egyptian idiomatic Arabic (the only phrase I have in that language).

On really bad days, I would post the sign that said:

Sono qui in manera solamente provvisoria
(I'm only here provisionally)

when I start quoting Dino Buzzati, things have reached an existential level of absurdity.

Once, and only once, I posted a sign that read
LASCIATE OGNI SPERANZA, VOI CH'ENTRATE

I decided that kind of thinking was bad for morale, so I found a mantra that I could use instead: Not my circus, not my monkey.

I'm pretty sure I know which fanfic I got it from, and I don't know if it's an accurate rendition of a Polish saying. But gosh it helped, on the really awful days.

This morning was definitely a lasciate ogni speranza situation. But I have lots of stuff to do, and I've been able to focus a little better on what needs doing; so I'm somewhere between in manera provvisoria and
أنا لااتكلم اللغة الإنجليزية.