my father and i have been exchanging long emails about the War. (if i was from the south, or in the cast of 'cold mountain', i'd say it like waw-uh.)

our epistolary discussion began (this time) because of a particularly insane screed he had posted on his own site. apparently, my fruit doesn't fall very far from the patriarchal tree--except my fruit is right and his is just insane.

so i wrote a rebuttal to the insane article - a rebuttal which needs much editing, but i'm essentially right, and which he ignored. being ignored angered me so i sent another billet-doux, listing all the ways he and his ilk have been mistaken about the war (there are statistics and i thought i'd bolster my argument with some of those.) but his next message said that since he was on his way to church, he'd have to get back to me - he only wants, however, an admission from me that it's important to be loyal to our country.

this morning, when i read that, i gulped, chomped down a multi-vitamin and began another long letter that began with a quote from tom paine. one screedy nutbag deserves another, i say! anyway, my letter is finished and rests in the inbox of my pater familias.

i fear he and i will never stand on common ground on this matter and it pains me to lump my dad with the millions of those ignoramuses who watch Fox news and listen to Michael Savage. i'm sure it pains him, too, to have a daughter who can't see the world through a calm, conservative lens that efficiently bifurcates the world in to Good and Evil.

it would be useless of me to give him a fast tutorial on saussure, derrida, foucault, binary oppositions, hidden ideological values in language, etc., but i wish i could. ah, ucla. professor pecora...you've ruined me for my father. i have been tainted with critical theory.