Tuesday digest

- In the wake of the Ward Churchill controversy (where the despicable University of Colorado ethnic studies prof was found to be a plagiarist), it's clear that academia is in pretty sad shape overall. Good thing no one out here in the real world really pays attention.

- Here's a critical look at the dishonest interview techniques that are used all too often by most journalists when the subject is Iraq. And, as the Iraqi cabinet has been formed despite overwhelming odds against it, it's time for a reminder about why the coalition is there in the first place (which most members of the national US media seem to have forgotten or more likely ignored). A broader look here.

- Western feminists should get behind Ayaan Hirsi Ali. Then again, when you've got Bond girls who can't get a fair shake, that damn Fox is still on the air, and you've got a White House full of dick-swinging knuckle draggers, who's got time to worry about the injustices of the Muslim world? Or would that be imperialist, intolerant and Islamophobic?

- Speaking of priorities, why are so many people worked up over the fate of a frickin' horse? I say send him off to the glue factory.

- And finally, a thought-provoking review of the Da Vinci Code here. Seems that along with selling sex and/or rebellion (preferably both), the surest way to make a buck these days is to peddle a simple explanation to a complicated question.

At one point Langdon kneels at the burial ground of a Christian figure, but by that time he has made it clear that it is not a heavenly authority he bends his knee for, but the god in all of us: ''Maybe human is divine," he tells Sophie midway through the film.

A more interesting question is why as preposterous a conspiracy theory as this should hold such wide appeal in the first place. Dare we consult Scripture on the subject and suggest its root lies in the oldest sin in the Book—pride. It seems obvious that at least part of the allure for those who take the Da Vinci Code seriously comes from pride that they are smarter, more clued-in than the average, churchgoing Joes and Janes on the street; pride that they alone, this relatively small group of renegades, have unearthed the secrets that duped all previous ages of men; pride that only they possess the intellect to recognize a con that took in entirety of Christendom.

There’s always a thrill to be had at feeling like an insider--especially when one can gain that feeling for the price of reading an airport novel rather than a serious study of liturgical history or, even more difficult, a serious searching of one’s own soul.