The Problems of Living in Resort Towns

Late March/Early April is when Wales (or maybe just Aberystwyth) becomes God's country.  The grey blanket that was laid over the seaside town in early October is pulled back, and the sun shines down on the blinking, staggering, rain soaked masses.  People come out, nervously at first, but then in droves.  As soon as the weather gets above 60 (16 in C), the Welsh start stripping their clothes off.  It probably was about 67 (17 or a bit more in C) today, maybe a bit warmer in the sun, and people were laying about the pebbly beaches in bikinis and bathing trunks.  Shirtless young men running about the beach, kicking soccer balls or chasing frisbees, and young women rolling up shirts and shaking the dust of long stored shorts.  The thing is: the sun won't last long.  "I've got my rain coat over here," joked one of my Welsh housemates.  "It could still rain today."

Aberystwyth, nestled between two hills and nearly in the center of the Cardigan Bay, has long been a tourist attraction, and during the Victorian era, this was the premiere getaway for Wealthy English.  They would stroll along the promenade, lunching on the pier (which at that point was a lot longer).  There are pictures in the pier hallways of people in top hats and long dresses meandering down the prominade.  With the exception of some electric lights and signage, not too much has changed in 120 or so years.

Easter is a prime time to visit Aberystwyth.  This time of the year, the shops, pubs and promenade fills with strange voices and accents.  People slowly walking along the shops as if they've never seen a high street before.  This is good for the community, and without this yearly migration of people from inland, Aberystwyth wouldn't be able to do what it does the rest of the year.

It's not like the rest of the year is deathly quiet.  Being a town built around and to support a University, the bars are never hurting for people looking to make bad decisions.  Like the tourists, packs of students meander about town, clogging up the high street with in a slow progression towards Subway and Costa.  Or if at night, scantily clad women, and cologne soaked men twittering down towards Yokos or Pier Pressure.

This one week, though, is a perfect storm for annoyances: young tourists looking to make the most of the sunny day, and students nearly finished with school work before Spring Break hits and they all abscond back home.  It makes for an odd mixture of tiny little children with Midlands accents running away from the waves, and University students swearing at each other and drinking cider by the liter in the early afternoon.  All of them fighting for a bit of pebbly beach  to enjoy in the first bits of warm sun.

It makes doing routine things like grocery shopping or going to Spar especially obnoxious.  I begrudgingly accept that there are not going to be a lot of bench spaces available on days like this, but I find I have little patience for people slowly stumbling about Co-Op looking for the sausages and rolls for an impromptu barbecue.

I know I sound like an old man chasing kids off my lawn, but I can't help it.  I find myself getting unnaturally bristly when I hear people talk about being on vacation here.  After all, they didn't suffer through the three months of pissing rain and winds strong enough to knock the breath out of you.  They didn't deal with the sleet and grey winter that seamless stretches on for weeks.  THEY don't have to clean up the mess once THEY are gone in three weeks.  It doesn't seem right that people who don't live here year round get to enjoy the beach and infringe on my quiet little seafront.  There are times in February when I the benches will go days without anyone sitting in them.  Now that it's nice enough for me, who has waited patiently through the nasty weather, to use them, there's somebody sitting there.  Somebody who drove in for the day.  And who'll just leave once the weather turns again.

But, as I sit here complaining, I realize, just short of saying it, the irony of it all.  I don't live here, per se.  I have an address here, and I certainly am here for other times during the year, but certainly not someone raised in Ceredigion County, having gone to Penglais Comprehensive, speaks Welsh, etc.  I imagine those that live here permanently look at me the same way I look at these opportunistic tourist taking up space on what I feel is my beach.  Damn international students.  Paying with their funny money and taking all our knowledge back home with them. Really, I am just as much a tourist as the people who come down just for the weekend.  My complaints about the tourist could neatly be reflected back at me.

The only difference, an important difference, too, is that they have somewhere to go back to.  Being a student living in two countries, I have no where to go.  Chicago feels like a trip to visit my friends and family, and I certainly lack permanence here in Aberystwyth, having to store all my stuff in a closet when I leave.


This is the heart of it: the tourist make me feel lonely.  You can go visit a place when you have a home.  All of my stuff fits in about two small rooms (one of which can be stored in a closet).  I don't really have a home, per se.  So when people come to visit, it's like rubbing their permanence in my face.  It's been a long time living in temporary conditions, and I am nearing the end of it.  But that end can't come fast enough.

I look forward to the day when I can pile my wife and my dog into the car or train, and nip off to some coastal town where I'll dirty up their beach for a while before going back to my cozy little house stuffed with my furniture and books.

Me V Socialized Medicine

About two weeks ago, I was washing up in the shower and noticed a lump in my armpit.  I've gotten pimples in more unusual places, so I didn't think much of it, and went about my life.  A week ago, though, I started getting pressure pains in the same area.  I did what no one should ever do when nervous about something weird on the body: I went to WebMD.

The initial prognosis was not good: cancer.  Some kind of cancer, be it one of the lymphomas or a rare case of breast cancer that can sometimes occur in men.  Or possibly some other sort of awful infection of the lymph system which can cause all sorts of undue health issues down the road.  Or just an infected hair follicle (I'll say you the worry and let you know that it is most likely an abscess caused by a clogged sweat glad, and not some incurable rapidly spreading form of cancer).

Luckily for me, though, I was in the UK and could go to the doctor for free (as all students in the UK can do when studying for more than six months).  There are heart-related health issues that run in my family, and while it is likely that my Dad's ALS was triggered by a drug interaction, I still find myself a little antsy when my arms hurt (which is where his ALS started).  So, figuring I was dying of cancer, had clotted arteries, or blood pressure shooting through the roof, I decided to make an appointment to see a doctor.  This is the second time, see more below, and I want to dispel some rumors about socialized medicine here.

See: when I was in America I was one of the millions of Americans that did not make enough money to afford health insurance.  When I was at Carbondale, I could benefit by going to the Student Health Services for $6 for most things.  When I left Carbondale, I was left to my own devices, and like so many others, I decided to pay for things like phone service and gas money than I did for insurance with an insanely high deductible and minimal coverage.  Luckily, I am don't often get sick (though, having said that, I will likely be stricken with something here soon), so it wasn't too much of a problem, but there were a few scares where splitting headaches wouldn't go away for days or a weird pain would shoot down my left arm.  I was then left to decide if what I felt was bad enough to see a very expensive doctor, or if I should see if I got better on my own.  I'm still alive today, so again: Keegan = lucky so far.

Here, though, I can see a doctor for free.  When I got to the UK, I had no idea how to sign up for an NHS card, so I let an entire year and a half go by before I decided it was worth looking into.  Then, right after I got back here for this school year, I got really sick and worried about what I would do if I needed hospitalization.  So I asked my friends here, and they told me to register with a local doctor.  I went to the one my friend Rachel suggest (Church Surgery), and just asked at the desk.  A few forms later, and I was in the system.  A week later, and a card came for me.  Just like that, I was insured.

Ironically, I ended up losing hearing in my left ear due to an infection that caused a massive waxy buildup shortly after I registered.  Terrified that I had gone deaf (I don't often freak out about medical things, despite what this blog suggests), I went back to the doctor, but my registration with the NHS hadn't gone through.  This is was one concern I had: large government run things can sometimes be really inefficient, and thus I could be denied care.  I've been to the DMV; I knew what to expect.  Without any hesitation, though, I was given an appointment and told that they would sort it out later.  Technically, I was uninsured, but with faith in the system, I was assumed covered.

Thus arose my second concern: that I would have to wait months for my appointment.  There are horror stories passed around about how people need to wait months for critical surgeries, or how people critically wounded spent days in the emergency room.  You'll wait forever to get an appointment, people would say.  And by that point, you'll have died.  So, when the lady asked me if I had that afternoon free, I was most surprised.  I literally waited four hours for my appointment, but it was a four hour wait I knew was coming.  So I went home.  I think I did laundry.  Quietly, because I had lost my hearing in one ear.  That afternoon, the doctor looked in, saw the buildup, and suggested some drops.  That night I could hear better than I had for months previous (the problem with slow buildups is that one does not recognize subtle changes).

When I found the lump in my armpit, I went over to make an appointment and found that I would not be that lucky.  I was asked if my issue was an emergency.  Wanting it not to be, I said no, hoping I could will it with my blase attitude into being just an abscess.  The nurse turned around and flipped through her appointment book, "Let's see here, when can we fit you in..."  She flipped through pages - what seemed like months.  "How is next Monday?" she asked.

So, one time, I waited four hours.  The next time I waited a week.  I know stats people will lose their mind over this, but on average, I wait 3.58 days for an appointment.  Which, if I remember right, is about what I would wait for an appointment in the States, fully insured (and so long as I didn't have an HMO, because then the waits can be quite a bit longer...).

I realize that there are caveats to this story:
1) I live in a small town that has surgery hours set aside for students.
2) None of my concerns have been life threatening or chronic.
3) Nothing has needed immediate or complicated treatment.
4) Wales in not London, or Birmingham, or Manchester, or even Shrewsberry for that matter.  Small places always = shorter wait times.
That said, I have had no complaints about the medical coverage over here.  The doctor's office was clean and professional.  The Death Panel cleared me with little argument (THERE ARE NO DEATH PANELS, YOU IDIOTS!  Never, anywhere, could a civilized country get away with killing off old people; the UN would have a fit and Florida would go bankrupt).  All in all, I have been extremely satisfied with my experience.

Today, when I got home for the doctor, I scrolled through Facebook, and my friend Sara recommended Fahreed Zakaria's new article on Swiss and Taiwanese health care (and, really, the rest of the world), and how it compares to the US.  Interestingly, it didn't look at how socialized medicine is a better way forward ethically, nor did it look to debunk the myths about death panels or wait times.  Instead, Zakaria approached it financially.  Financially speaking, Americans, American employers, and the American government pay more (more than 22 other financially similar countries) for less care (and, as Zakaria notes, less satisfying care).  We die younger and our babies have less a chance for survival.  In short, a country that prides itself on having the best of everything provides the worst health care in the industrialized world (more than Argentina or India, which are not known to be countries rolling in splendor).

In the end, universal health care just makes the most sense.  The US spends more money on health care, as individuals, as an employer and as a nation, than anyone else, so financially, the health care needs to be reformed.  Those that complain the government is too involved can rest assured that less tax dollars will go towards a universal system than do the one currently operating (see the above link, slide 26 for evidence to that end), and a system like Switzerland would allow for a more free-market solution that would remove a lot of government involvement.  Economically, healthier people = healthy workers; I'm not economist, but I think a strong, longer living work force would be beneficial to the economy.  No matter how you look at it, there needs to be a change, and any step away from some sort of Universal Care is an unhealthy step.

See what I did there...

Freedom to Practice Religion

Let's get one thing clear before we begin: I am a Catholic.  My faith has wavered from time to time, but a Catholic nonetheless.  I believe that there is a God, and that God has influence in my life (and by extension other people, whether they believe in God or not).  I try my hardest to follow the Golden Rule (treating others as I would want to be treated), as well as loving and caring for those with whom I share this planet.  My Catholic faith, and the values it has instilled in me, are a large part of the reason I am who I am today.

That said, I have been appalled by how the Catholic and Christian faith is being bandied about during this election season, particularly on the issues of contraception and gay marriage.

What I find most alarming is how people claim that equal access to something is infringing upon the freedom to practice religion.  It is certainly true that Catholics don't believe in contraception, and to ask Catholic organizations to provide contraceptive options to their female and male, non-Catholic employees goes against their held beliefs.  But no one is forcing Christian organizations to act in the public sector.  There are religions that believe this or that to be immoral, and thus remove themselves from those aspects of society.  For example, the Amish who reject a lot of the conveniences of modern society for reasons of morality or religious obligation.  The Amish are free to live and do as they please, but they are not allowed to force those beliefs on others.  If the Amish started providing a charity organization that worked in cooperation with the government that employed non-Amish people, they wouldn't be allowed to demand that each employee behave in a certain way.

The same is true of all freedoms.  I am allowed to own a gun (which, here in Britain, people find it quite alarming that I can just walk into a place, and buy a weapon that can produce instant death; especially in light of recent school shootings).  I am allowed to carry that gun with me to certain places.  I am even allowed to discharge that weapon in specially sanctioned places.  I am not, however, allowed to carry or discharge my weapon in such a way that it infringes on the rights of others.  The same is true of religion.

There is a big deal made about how kids are not forced to say things like "under God" or have a prayer before major school events.  People claim that God is being forced from the schools.  One image that was being passed around on the social media sites suggested that the recent school shootings and other violence in school is because God is not allowed in any more (I searched for the image and found it on this kids blog, which I think is great; the mixed messages are just fantastic).  This is patently untrue.  No one is saying that you can't pray in public, what is true is that you can't force other people to sit through large group prayer as part of a public function.  I was raised Catholic and went to public school until I was in high school.  I used to pray at school by myself all the time.  I used to talk about going to CCD classes with my non-Catholic friends.  I used to talk with my Catholic friends about church (though, not a lot, and usually just to acknowledge that we both had gone).  If I had been more motivated, I could have organized prayer circles with friends so we could pray together, in private.  In sixth grade, we learned about different cultures, and one section was about Christianity.  At that point, I was even allowed to debate, as much as a sixth grader could, the beliefs and doctrines of the Church.  AS PART OF CLASS!

The same is true with all public spaces.  When I was more devout in high school, I used to pray over meals at public restaurants.  I used to play in a church band that would play free concerts in public spaces.  I used to do fundraisers for the Catholic charities knocking on doors and praying with people who donated food stuffs.  No one ever stopped me.  And no one was forced to join in.

But the fact of the matter is, not everyone is Catholic.  Regardless of whether or not everyone should believe in the Christian God (that is another post for another time), these people are all allowed to have the same freedom to practice or not practice as they see fit.  This is why college campuses with have interfaith chapels, and prayer rooms for Muslims.  Would people be so vocal about the freedom to practice religion if everyone had to stop five times a day to allow the Muslims to pray?  Probably not.

This extends to not only practices but beliefs.  Muslims, Jews and Hindus all have permanent religious dietary beliefs.  I notice that the country is not quick to ban pork, beef and alcohol.  The aforementioned Amish don't allow the use of electricity, but no one is going to suggest that the nation go dark just to accommodate one religious belief (plus, my reader base would be greatly reduced, and then fewer people would have opportunities to read about buying pants in Wales).  On the subject of leg ware, there are several sections in the Christian Bible that suggest women shouldn't wear pants or expose their bodies, and some Christian sects follow these guidelines very dutifully:

Deuteronomy 22:5 The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God.

1 Timothy 2:9 In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array.

However, I don't see former Senator Santorum or former Governor Romney jumping in to say that all pants and kilts be banned nation wide, along with jewelry of any kind, including their wive's collection of earrings and necklaces.  Why?  Because these religious doctrines would infringe upon the freedoms of others (I would love to see how the oil and natural gas companies react if there were an Amish Republican demanding for conservation of electricity and a ban on all cars; it would be fair to say the Amish are the most conservative people in America, so they should make for good Republican candidates...save for that whole isolationism and simple living bit...).

The same extends to contraception and marriage.  It was decided that contraception was legal years ago, and frankly for good reasons.  The biggest being that not everyone finds it morally problematic.  Seven states currently have legalized gay marriage, and again, because not everyone (especially gay people) find a problem with same-sex marriage.  We, as a country, decided long ago that our religious practices were not to infringe upon others basic freedoms.  This is what President Kennedy was speaking about in 1960, a speech that made former Senator Santorum "want to throw up" (ironically, it was because of Kennedy that Santorum is even allowed to be considered for the office of President):

I believe in an America...

• that is officially neither Catholic, Protestant nor Jewish; where no public official either requests or accepts instructions on public policy from the Pope, the National Council of Churches or any other ecclesiastical source;

• where no religious body seeks to impose its will directly or indirectly upon the general populace or the public acts of its officials; and

• where religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.

The second and third bullet points are particularly poignant here, and it shouldn't be one without the other.  The full speech is linked above, and every time I read it, I am made happier to be a citizen of a country that gave the world someone like John F. Kennedy.

If those inspiring words, or ones similar from former Presidents like Jefferson, can't convince politicians to back off this issue, then maybe Christian politicians should look to the doctrine they claim to believe in so fervently:

Matthew 6: 1-8

Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.  Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.  But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly. And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.  But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.  But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.  Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him. 

Academic Courtship

I was given a rare opportunity here at Aberystwyth: to give a lecture to the department (well, really anyone that wanted to come, but most people were from the English department).  This was not as part of a larger conference, or as part of a panel.  This was an hour dedicated to my research.  This lecture was part of the department's Work in Progress series that allows for staff and PhD students to talk about whatever research project is going on.  So far this year, (newly made) Professor Damien Walford Davies, Chair of the department, gave a lecture on literary cartography, and Professor Peter Barry, my supervisor, gave a lecture on place and time in elegiac poetry.  Next week, fellow PhD student, Bill Welsted will be speaking about braided narratives in Welsh eco-poetry.

I was given a spot in the series, and with some trepidation decided to talk about Marvel comics.

The crux of my argument is that Marvel comics tries to keep their stock of heroes relevant by using major cross-over events to examine the role of superheroes in American culture while still maintaining the continuity of the established Universe.  This, I argue, is in stark contrast to DC who generally just erase the more unseemly or confusing aspects of their continuity by either rebooting characters or having all the parallel Universes fight each other.  I argue that Marvel's method of restructuring allows for their character to better reflect the complicated relationship America has to superheroes.  For example, Captain America's brand of blind government obedience is no longer relevant in an America which is riddled with political and corporate corruption.  To make Captain America better represent the new American spirit, they had him duke it out with Iron-Man.  At the end of the fight, where both took opposite sides of a debate regarding freedom and identity, Captain America realized the errors of his ways, and gave himself up.  In this way, Captain America (the character) makes the changes needed to stay relevant (though they did kill him shortly after).

Not the most academic of arguments, particularly in light of those that came before me and those that are to come after.  I wasn't dealing with "great" literature, or Literature.  I wasn't even looking at the arty, gritty black-and-white "adult" comics that people like to bandy about as "graphic novels".  I was doing a cultural analysis of a popular medium, so I was a little worried that no one was going to show up.  And also, it wasn't very well advertised.

But...I wrote what I considered to be an interesting paper, whipped up a Flash animation using Prezi, and prepared as best I could for the Q&A session.

Firstly, to my surprise, it was very well attended.  I was expecting some of the younger academics, and especially my friends, to show up.  But there was also a mess of people I didn't know.  So many people, in fact, they had used up all the chairs, and people were left to squat or sit on the ground (though, to be fair, it wasn't a large room).  Besides the young kids who might read it, there were also three senior members of staff, and two junior members.

Secondly, I was surprised at how well it was received.  There are two big concerns I have when I look at superhero comics in the UK:

1) (and this is a concern that manifests itself in America, too) Comic book fans consider themselves to be experts in comicbook theory.  Let me explain this problem another way: if you were giving a paper on, say, the role of the supernatural in Gothic fiction, only people familiar with Radcliffe and the like would feel like they are experts; not anyone who has ever read a novel.  But with comics, people equate knowledge of a character or series with expertise.  I will be one to admit that I am not well versed in DC after 1985.  I am aware of the stock of characters, the general back stories, and so forth, but I have never been a fan of DC.  That said, I have done research on what Superman and Batman represent as cultural artifacts.  I understand the history of the superhero and understand the role the two play in the development of the medium.  I might not know every story line, but I know more critical material relating to DC and Marvel than most people would.   Many people might know that Superman fought Muhammad Ali, but not so many would be able to articulate why that is culturally relevant.

So, when I talk about superheroes, I am often faced with a crowd that bases credibility on depth of knowledge (and the more arcane the knowledge, the more credible I appear).  There were a few people in the crowd like that who were looking to challenge my argument simply because they knew a lot about DCs recent New 52 reboot.

2) 2000AD and Tank Girl aside, the British don't get into superheroes the way that Americans do.  It wasn't part of their cultural heritage, so that requires me to be very thorough in my explication.  The characters, the history, the major (though difficult to spot) differences between DC and Marvel: these are not part of their vocabulary.

So, unlike with the people mentioned in #1, I have to be more generalized and possibly gloss over some of the intricacies of the character's history (like, for example, I didn't feel it was necessary to talk about all the different side-kicks that Captain America had; or that time when Steve Rogers, and later Bucky replacement Jack Monroe, were Nomad, fighting for the American dream underground-style).  I'm left usually making sweeping generalizations for the sake of clarity rather than make a more nuanced argument that requires a lot of detailed knowledge.

One paper; two audiences.  It's a fine line to walk.  On the one hand, I'd like not to underestimate my audience by overly explaining the essentials of superheroes; but on the other hand, I don't want to get bogged down in a "who's who in the Marvel Universe" paper.

This was a good practice for maintaining that balance, and in the Q&A session, one of my colleagues asked how I managed to keep it all straight.  For that, I can thank the Internet, particularly Wikipedia and ComicVine.

But, this is not really a post about how awesome I am at presenting.  This is a post about "impact".

That's a word that is floating around British Academic Departments a lot these days, and it's not entirely clear what is really meant by it.  By my understanding, it's meant to be the reach my research is to have beyond the walls of academia.  The more impactful your research, the more the general public will be interested, the more the department can shop you around as a commodity.  As I near the end of my thesis, the more I am worried that a structural analysis of comic books is not an impactful thesis.

So, when I signed up for this presentation, and I was asked what work-in-progress I was going to present, I had two options: 1) I could look at how the layout of comics conveys meaning (the chapter I am working on now); or 2) I could look at how the international political influences in contemporary America have influenced the superhero, as well as what that might say about America's understanding of itself.  It seemed the second of the two options would reach and appeal to a larger audience.  I've tried floating my structural work on comics by a general audience and it tends to fall flat, so I thought I would try the second.

I am by no means a historically-informed critic.  In fact, I tend not to know when things are written, but more have a vague understanding of when works came in relation to others.  For example, I know that the Modernist writers were at the beginning of the 20th century and followed the Victorians who followed the Romantics.  I know that Lyrical Ballads came after Shakespeare but before The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.  So, thinking about the way contemporary politics have influenced comic books was a new territory for me, but I feel it went well.  At least people keep telling me it did.  And that's good enough for me.

But most importantly, it went well in front of a sizable audience of my peers and colleagues.  What I hoped to show with this is that I can adapt my scholarly interests to the audience that is going to attend.  For an audience that is interested in narrative structuralism, I can do something a bit more theoretical; a more generalized audience, a more generalized scholarship.

I guess, at the heart of it, I've learned something from superhero comics: you need to stay relevant to the readership that is going to be buying your commodity (in this case, me as a knowledgeable expert in something).  I can do as Marvel has done, and run parallel scholarly arcs that try to wrestle with the changes while maintaining a sense of continuity.  Or I can do as DC has done and reboot my scholarship every few years, totally erasing and marginalizing what has come before.