Ted, Ted, Ted

our first lady agrees with me on the virtues of bilingualism.

A very, very long list of lists.

Sens. Graham and Shelby have decided to let the CIA take the wrist-slap for that missionary airplane their minions shot down in April. This being the Senate Intelligence Committee, it would be too much to expect them to actually tell the truth — that the whole drugs-and-spies concept is irredeemably corrupt and destructive and needs to be scrapped — but they do give a nod to the growing general awareness of the agency’s essential rottenness. The able Michael Smith is staying on top of all this Peru stuff for us.

For reasons no one needs to be reminded of, the Organization of American States prohibits forced disappearance, which it defines as “the act of depriving a person or persons of … their freedom, in whatever way, perpetrated by agents of the state … followed by an absence of information or a refusal to … give information on the whereabouts of that person, thereby impeding his or her recourse to the applicable legal remedies and procedural guarantees.” The U.N. General Assembly classified forced disappearance as a crime against humanity in 1992. I’m sure one of my many international-lawyer readers will correct me on this, but it looks to me like every time John Ashcroft refuses to answer a question about one of the 600-some people he is holding incommunicado, he adds another line to the eventual indictment at the Hague.

The Women’s Sports Foundation put up these handy reminders about helping girls with sports.

Acquired over the weekend: these extra-handsome pics of Laura and Lillian’s youngest cousins, James and Oliver.

Much as it pains me to admit it, for a clear-headed take on international events these days you can usually count on the Trotskyists. My favorite leftist web site is carrying a piece on Afghanistan that lays out the cui bono question about as clearly as I’ve seen it done anywhere (relying heavily on Ahmed Rashid’s work), plus another piece that gives voice to everything you’ve been suspecting (admit it) about the free ride our Doofus-in-Chief is getting from reporters.

The Children’s Music Network is building up a list of kids’ songs and books about peace on their new Peace Page. Laura and I were at the Network’s annual gathering last month up in Marin County. We went there to hear some new tunes (Laura really likes her freedom songs) and to see our friend, the absurdly capable Caroline Presnell, who coordinates the gathering. We don’t see her very often because she lives way over by Chicago. All day we wandered around this old farm turned conference center while music teachers and songwriters hung out in little groups with their tape recorders on the ground in front of them, trading material. Ella Jenkins was there to pick up a lifetime achievement award, and in lieu of an acceptance speech she had all the kids come up to the mike and sing a song. Laura had no problem singing it because the song was Malvina Reynolds’ “Magic Penny,” which has been used in the birthday celebrations at Playmates Preschool for many years: “Love is something; if you give it away, you end up having more.”Anyway, you should look at the Peace Page and let them know if they have left anything out.

I don’t think I’ve said here how proud I am to know Linda Burnham, who gave this remarkable speech last month.

Reader Service Dept:If you have ever fallen asleep while reading a Potter tome, here is where the Guardian lets you know how much you’ve missed. I didn’t do so great, but I feel very well rested, thank you.

Here, as promised, is Laura’s first MP3 recording. She taped it the night of Nov. 14, to critical raves, and plans a whole bunch of follow-up releases.

I’m as surprised as you are that we dragged our sorry selves out of bed at 1:30 a.m. Sunday to watch the Leonid meteor shower. It turned out to be worth the pain. It looked kind of like this, except the picture is a three-minute exposure. We really only saw about one shooting star every 30 seconds or so. Only the very brightest ones could shine through all the city lights all around us. Watching Laura drink it in, I found myself thinking of two things from my own childhood: all those Easter Sunday sunrise services we stumbled through, and (more pleasantly) the morning my parents kept us out of school to watch Apollo 11 take off for the moon.

From Cathy:

J.K. Rowling may not be a literary giant, but like many children around the world, Elena is engaged in a way I hadn�t expected, and eagerly anticipates her nightly dose. So what if it�s �skim-milky?� I wasn�t expecting E.B. White, Milne or Lewis Carroll. Most readers aren�t primarily drawn to Rowling because they think her themes �fresh and intriguing,� either; they are attracted to themes that resonate most deeply. Go figure. Though Rowling is no Dickens, she�s no fool either. What I am relishing, though, is Elena�s rapt attention, incessant questions about unfamiliar vocabulary and accurate recall of the many characters and their devious or noble intent. While I read and she listens, I can almost see how her mind�s eye brings to life the words on the page, weaving pictures that dance and sparkle or, even, frighten. Sometimes, she�s asked me to stop reading when she can�t bear to hear the terrifying conclusion (Harry’s foray into the Forbidden Forest - Book 1) or when a character is suffering too much (house elf being interrogated - Book 4). There is an electric power in this act of the imagination that will serve her well as she begins to decode and then read �good� books fluently on her own. What matters isn’t so much that I am willing to suspend my critical eye for the literary merit of the series, but that Elena and I have done what all of us do when fully engaged; we�ve surrendered to the pure pleasure of the storyteller�s tale, counting on her to lead us where she wishes, spellbound, thrilled and appalled by turns. Having said this, the best of the four books so far is The Prisoner of Azkaban, which develops the theme of the duality of human nature and tests Harry�s and Hermione�s mettle in surprising ways. Hermione, who so far has been Harry�s stereotypical sidekick, really comes into her own in this book, taking risks and the initiative in ways that overshadow Harry�s sometimes dubious accomplishments. Like my real-life friend Harriett, I was repelled by Harry�s self-serving lies in Prisoner and I�m getting a little tired of Rowling�s heavy reliance on deus ex machina, as well. Besides resonant themes, however, Rowling has captured the mystery of a world where children have access to and can exercise magical powers. Until Elena says stop, I will continue to let her imagination take flight and be thrilled at the wonder of it.

Stephy Says: That tired old saw about “just get them reading,” to which you refer, my dear Ted, is no small thing. Reading is the cornerstone of all learning, and as such, of all revolution. Not to sound too much like my grandmotherly old self, here, but look: once they learn to read, they can choose to read whatever they like. (Which may include religious tracts, but one can’t stop all the evils in the world, now, can one?)One more thing: I am Not a geek! (Am I? What is your evidence?)

I suppose to someone not as hopelessly geeky as me (or you, Stephy), the themes Rowling works in Harry Potter might seem fresh and intriguing. Now that I think about it, Ursula LeGuin’s Wizard of Earthsea stories, aimed at a similar audience, struck me that way 30 years ago, and you could shoot some of the same arrows at them: a little 60s neo-mysticism plus warmed-over Arthurian mythology. Which was itself lifted from somewhere, and so on.

What’s more interesting is how Rowling (and LeGuin and Lewis and so on) have figured out how to talk past us, directly to the kids, even when we are the ones reading the stories to them. I try hard to keep the laughter out of my voice when I read Harriet to Laura, but I know it’s there; I can hear it. She doesn’t, as far as I can tell. From where she sits, I am nothing but a conduit, like one of those talking e-Book reader gadgets. I guess I’m OK with that. In other contexts I like it a lot. You will remember the Robert Louis Stevenson poem about the horseperson going by in the night, with that great repetitive line, something like “back at the gallop again,” which when you read it out loud turns you into a percussion instrument in the writer’s hands. That’s pretty cool.

Meanwhile, Harry the Movie opens this weekend, as if anyone needed to be reminded. Slate has a pretty decent review, but the best part of their coverage is a link to the delightful Voice of the Turtle. The New York Times ran a think piece today that revisits parts of that old “Just get them reading” battle cry. Most librarians, who should know, seem to agree. I just wish this were the kind of world where they didn’t all have to get started on the exact same mass-produced mush.

Stephy was just explaining why she doesn’t mind having an ad at the top of her website, and I scrolled up to see if there was an ad there, because I had not noticed. There was, and it was an ad for this nifty all-around book site, which I wish I’d known about ages ago. Which goes to show you something or other.

Where has Charles Nevin been all these years while I’ve been reading Dave Barry? Apparently he also goes by Captain Moonlight. I guess it’s a British comedy thing. (Also check the Robert Fisk link at the bottom. Not much that’s new, if you’ve been following Fisk, but still good stiff stuff.)

OK, this is some deeply funny and angry material. Warning: strong language. If you don’t care to have your eyebrows singed, don’t click here.

Lest anyone think the Brits are just lying down and taking this Tony Blair crap: Here is a letter from over there that gives a different impression. Passed along by Bob Wing of ColorLines magazine.

If you’re tired of remembering web passwords, Robert Graham, the chief software guy at the company where I work, is your friend.