I’m A Millennial. Please Stop Being A Douche To Me. | I Am Begging My Mother Not To Read This Blog
Ok. If anyone out there is reading this who a) has a facebook or twitter account and b) is approximately 16-40 years old, you’ve probably stumbled upon
I have a lot of friends who have posted it, most of whom I adore (sorry, Trev!) – but here’s the thing. On one hand: okay. Okay. I get it. Some of that shit is totally valid.
On the other: fuck you, guy.
In recent months, we’ve been subjected to a lot of vocal hand-wringing about this generation, not least of which was the article about the Millennial Generation. “They’re narcissistic. They’re lazy. They’re coddled. They’re even a bit delusional.”
Do I know folks in my age demographic who fit that description?
Yes. Oh, hell yes. Who doesn’t? Someone please explain the concept of the ‘selfie’ to me again.
Do I know grown-ass adults who fit that description? Again: Hell yes. Meet my grandfather. My grandmother has cooked his breakfast every day for the past 50 years of their marriage. I adore him, but looking at the man who can’t put his pants on in the morning unless he knows someone else is already making the coffee and eggs: you want to tell me what, exactly again about my generation being lazy and coddled?
This argument is infuriating for the same reason younger generations have always been infuriated by the old trope of “In my day, we walked to school uphill and barefoot in the snow.” It’s horseshit, and we know it.
Do I think I’m a magical, special unicorn snowflake, destined for greatness? Eh. Not particularly. Wanna know what formed that opinion? I survived high school, got straight A’s, and didn’t make it, unlike a small handful of my peers, into the Ivy Leagues of my dreams. (Look, not to be that guy, but: perfect SAT verbal score, active involvement in community service organizations, years of community theatre and church leadership, lifeguard and swim instructor, peer mentorship groups, wrote for the yearbook. Like, you know, everyone else who applied to college in 2004.)
Ok. I shook it off. Went to a great school. Was truly challenged intellectually for the first time in my life, surrounded by other kids with similar backgrounds, all of whom had worked their ass off for years, most of whom astounded me with their drive, ambition, and natural talent. Incredible teachers. Terrific mentors. I was outpaced by many of them, and it made me work harder. I wouldn’t change a thing.
And let’s be real about college. Was I occasionally found drinking Bud Light at a frat party on a Saturday night? Fuck, yeah. We all did. You know what else I did? Graduated with honors from a top liberal arts college. Worked my ass off at my part-time job. Spent hours upon hours building skills that would translate to my future career.
I graduated in 2008. Remember 2008? Oh, right. The housing market collapsed. Global stock markets plummeted. The Great Recession happened. I had $25,000 of student loan debt and a liberal arts degree in English and Theatre.
In other words: Oh, Hey, Real World. I’m Katherine. I’m HERE! What’s that, you say? We’re all kinda fucked? Oh. Okay. Neat.
I was one of the lucky ones. I was hired after graduation for a yearlong apprenticeship at a theatre company, a job in my field that I desperately craved. I was paid $375/week plus health insurance. This whole story is a longer post for the future (hell, it’s probably a book), but here’s how I can sum it up best. On my very first day, my boss, a woman I admire and respect beyond measure, welcomed us. She smiled at our eager young faces seated around a conference table, in our best “first day of the rest of our lives” outfits, and said, “Okay. Here’s the deal. You all come from college environments where you have been told that you are the best and the brightest, and there’s some truth to that. You beat out 300 other applicants for this job.
You get to be proud of that, for about four more seconds. Now welcome to the real world. No one here is going to pat you on the fanny and tell you when you do a good job. We’re going to call you out when you fuck it up instead. Got it? So – just don’t fuck it up, ever, and you’ll do just fine.”
It was harsh. It was also the best advice I’ve ever received.
I worked my ass off for that company for a year. Did I fuck it up sometimes? Yeah. Absolutely. I made tons of mistakes. You know what it taught me? How to grow up. How to take responsibility for my actions, especially when something was my fault, and even when it wasn’t. It taught me to budget my finances. It taught me how to slog through the worst days of demoralizing gruntwork. It taught me how to survive on peanut butter sandwiches.
And here’s where it gets really interesting. After that year ended, I pursued my dream job. Four years later, here’s the payoff: I am a fairly respected costume designer in the regional theatre market of the city of Philadelphia. I’m doing what I set out to do, and that feeling is incredible. I have received accolades from my peers, from national press, from whatever fucking internet publications care about what I do and want to nominate me for things. That’s fucking AWESOME. I love that I am my own boss, that I run my own small business, which is simply myself and my trusty sewing machine. I love that I pay my own health insurance and cell phone bill. I design 15 or more shows a year. I rarely have a day off. I dabble in graphic design on the side. I help run a small theatre company. I pick up odd jobs where I can find them. I mostly love it.
: if I’m lucky, I can make about as much money as I did at that first job right out of college.
And here’s where it royally sucks: If I’m incredibly lucky, I can go back to grad school, accumulate more student debt, and pray that someone in my field with a cushy university job dies so I can take over their gig.
Because until that happens, the freelance thing is kind of my best option.
And while I’m still freelancing here, I’m never going to make more than 25 grand a year. I broke 21 last year – the best of my career so far – and my accountant just shook her head in depressive dismay at my shock and delight.
Wanna know where 25 grand a year gets me? Not all that far, once you factor in car payments and student loan payments and rent and groceries and insurance.
Okay, you say, but: you chose to pursue your dream job! You must have known it was going to be hard, forever and ever! You chose to smack the label of ‘artist’ surely you must have anticipated some hardship!
Yeah. I sure did.
On one hand: Fuck yeah, I did. I’m a rebel artist warrior! I’m following my passions! I’m living my dreams!
On the other hand: What the fuck am I doing with my life?
And on still yet another hand: Okay. Then you tell me. If I’m never going to make enough to live comfortably and I’m willing to change that: you just point me towards the jobs I should be applying for instead.
I’m good at a lot of things. Those things aren’t STEM fields. I’m not good with numbers. I’m not good with science. I’m not good with technology or banking or computers or software engineering.
I’m a good designer. I’m a good teacher. I’ve recently discovered that I’m not a half-bad writer.
Which, I’m afraid to inform you as well as myself, simply aren’t skills that are prized at this particular time in American history.
Where does this leave me?
Fuck if I know.
On the whole, I’m happy.
On the whole, I like my life.
On the whole, I’m proud of my achievements and I’m going to keep going, because what the fuck else am I going to do.
I exist in a world in which I don’t understand what a 401K is all about.
Social Security will not likely exist by the time I will need it.
I will never have a pension.
I’ve never even filed for unemployment. Because as a freelancer, I’m never in one place long enough to qualify.
This is not unique to my job description.
This is unique to my generation.
I live in a world in which the teachers in the city of Philadelphia are on strike because their budget issues are so rampantly unresolved that they are returning to work without contracts, paper, or desks. I live in a world where we’re slashing budgets so that the kids of the next generation won’t know a childhood with art or music classes.
I’m a woman in a generation fighting insane battles for reproductive rights that we didn’t even know until recently that we needed to be fighting, because we had simply assumed that we had already won them.
I live in a world in which we have a black president and yet we say hateful racist shit on Twitter when an Indian-American woman takes the Miss America crown. I live in a world in which we give a fuck about Miley Cyrus.
I live in a world in which we perpetuate the unpaid intern system.
I live in a world in which, since 1979, the average American worker has seen a 75% increase in productivity, and yet wages remain flat.
I live in a world where the top 1% of earners have seen their income quadruple since that exact same year.
I live in a world that simply seems too crazy for me to handle some days. I live in a world that sometimes makes me simply want to hide under the covers and not come out until it’s fixed.
And here’s what’s super fucked up:
I live in a world in which I still believe there is hope for the future.
If I’m a special fucking unicorn, and everyone in my generation is a special fucking unicorn, then okay, we all are special fucking unicorns, and I know that’s an oxymoron, but I can’t help but think that just one of those special fucking unicorns is going to figure out how to fix this mess. One of those special fucking unicorns is going to cure cancer or become the next president or write the next great American novel, or figure out how to fix the fucked-up-ed-ness of everything my generation is currently dealing with.
And if you do, Special Fucking Unicorn I Have Yet To Meet, I sincerely salute you.
I might not have retirement savings, or even enough to cover next month’s rent, but you bet your ass I’m going to put some money aside and buy you a beer.
Share this:Like this:Like Loading...
Connecting to %s
Follow me via email!
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Shameless Whoredom.
More Shameless Whoredom.
Follow &I Am Begging My Mother Not To Read This Blog&
Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.
Join 30,006 other followers
Send to Email Address
Your Email Address
Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
Email check failed, please try again
Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.
%d bloggers like this:Chairman Mao: The real inventor of “traditional Chinese medicine” – Respectful Insolence
Most, if not virtually all, of what is now referred to as “traditional Chinese medicine” is quackery. I realize that it’s considered “intolerant” and not politically correct to say that in these days of “integrative medicine” departments infiltrating academic medical centers like so much kudzu enveloping a telephone pole, but I don’t care. I’m supposed to be impressed that the M.D. Anderson and Memorial-Sloan Kettering Cancer Centers, among others, have lost their collective mind and now “integrate” prescientific nonsense along with their state-of-the-art cancer therapy? I don’t think so. I can be puzzled by it. I can be dismayed by it. I can even be enraged by the infiltration of woo into prestigious medical centers. I am not, however, impressed by it, at least not in the sense that I’m about to jump on the bandwagon and embrace pseudoscience, too. I will admit, however, to being impressed—but not in a good way—with the ability of clinical leaders at such institutions who really should know better to embrace pure pseudoscience, including acupuncture, tongue diagnosis, the balancing of hot, cold, , and the other things that TCM claims to balance, and the vitalism that is at the heart of TCM in the form of qi, the undetectably imaginary life “energy” whose flow is supposedly redirected to healing effect by acupuncture.
Particularly galling about the ascendency of TCM in the US is the myth that is swallowed whole by its advocates. That myth is the very history of TCM, whose true origins are unknown by all but a very few. Contrary to popular belief (particularly about acupuncture), those beliefs do not go back thousands of years into antiquity, when the ancient healing wisdom of the Chinese was supposedly first discovered. In actuality, very few people are aware that the single person most responsible for the current popularity of TCM was not some ancient Chinese healer but rather Chairman Mao Zedong. That’s why an article published by Alan Levinovitz
entitled .
Before I get to the good stuff, I do have to point out one thing that irritated the hell out of me about the article. Never let it be said that there is anyone more dismissive of naturopathy. My favorite description of naturopathy is that it is a veritable cornucopia of quackery, selected in a manner not unlike that of the proverbial menu in a Chinese restaurant: One quackery from column A, two from column B. Naturopathy mixes homeopathy, TCM, herbalism, diet woo, and just about every other form of quackery you can think of, mixing it into one homogenous pseudoscientific slurry of quacky badness. I was also the one who noticed that Senator Barbara Mikulski (D-MD), a woo-friendly legislator almost on par with the Dark Lord of Legislative Quackery and Creator of the National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine (NCCAM) himself, Senator Tom Harkin (D-IA), had gotten a resolution through the Senate declaring the week of October 7-13 as Naturopathic Medicine Week. I declared it , and a few bloggers agreed. Oh, well, it wasn’t one of my more successful ideas.
Be that as it may, Levinovitz uses Naturopathic Medicine Week to introduce his article, and it’s a mistake:
Mikulski and the rest of the Senate may be surprised to learn that they were repeating 60-year-old justifications of Chinese medicine put forward by Chairman Mao. Unlike Mikulski, however, Mao was under no illusion that Chinese medicine—a —actually worked. In , Li Zhisui, one of Mao’s personal physicians, recounts a conversation they had on the subject. Trained as an M.D. in Western medicine, Li admitted to being baffled by ancient Chinese medical books, especially their theories relating to the five elements. It turns out his employer also found them implausible.
“Even though I believe we should promote Chinese medicine,” Mao told him, “I personally do not believe in it. I don’t take Chinese medicine.”
TCM is not naturopathy. It is part of naturopathy, but it is not naturopathy, any more than homeopathy is, even though, as I have pointed out, . The introduction is a stretch that gives the mistaken impression that naturopathy is mostly TCM. It’s not. For instance, take a look at this :
Detoxification is a big part of naturopathic theory and practice. Helping the body eliminate toxins safely and effectively can play an important role in improving health and preventing disease. One of the most useful detoxification therapies I use in my practice is the use of UNDA numbers, which are unique combinations of liquid homeopathic formulas founded on the theories of Chinese medicine, homeopathy, and anthroposophy.
This brief paragraph to me sums up the essence of naturopathy, which is to mix and match quackeries from a variety of sources like an insane game of Mad Libs for quacks. One coud as well insert Ayurvedic medicine, Native American medicine, shamanism, iridology, reflexology (popular among naturopaths), detox foot baths, biotherapeutic drainage, and, of course, chelation therapy.
My little fit of pique over an aspect of the article thus disposed with, I’ll say that the rest of the article is quite good, and it is quite true that much of the reason for the popularity of TCM in China and its spread to the US and beyond was because of Chairman Mao’s promotion. The reason, as has been explained on one of my favorite bloggers, Kimball Atwood, and others, is because there simply weren’t enough doctors in China trained in scientific medicine, as admitted by Mao (quoted by Levinovitz):
Our nation’s health work teams are large. They have to concern themselves with over 500 million people [including the] young, old, and ill. … At present, doctors of Western medicine are few, and thus the broad masses of the people, and in particular the peasants, rely on Chinese medicine to treat illness. Therefore, we must strive for the complete unification of Chinese medicine. (Translations from Kim Taylor’s Chinese Medicine in Early Communist China, : A Medicine of Revolution.)
Who knew? (Well, I did.) I also knew, as Levinovitz relates, that this was the very first “integrative” medicine, “integrating quackery with science-based medicine more than four decades before the term “integrative medicine” caught on in the US. A particularly pertinent quote sums this idea up:
“This One Medicine,” exulted the president of the Chinese Medical Association in 1952, “will possess a basis in modern natural sciences, will have absorbed the ancient and the new, the Chinese and the foreign, all medical achievements—and will be China’s New Medicine!”
Indeed, what’s interesting about Levinovitz’s article is his description of how the exportation of TCM to the world was quite deliberate, as part of a strategy to popularize it among the Chinese. There was a problem, however. As Levinovitz noted, there was no such thing as “traditional Chinese medicine.” Rather, there were traditional Chinese medicines. For many centuries, healing practices in China had been highly variable, and attempts at institutionalizing medical education were mostly unsuccessful and “most practitioners drew at will on a mixture of demonology, astrology, yin-yang five phases theory, classic texts, folk wisdom, and personal experience.” While it’s irresistible (to me, at least) to make an analogy to how naturopaths draw from a wide variety of quackeries, TCM is not naturopathy. Mao realized that TCM would be unappealing to foreigners, as even many Chinese, particularly those with an education, realized that TCM was mostly quackery. For instance, in 1923, Lu Xun realized that “Chinese doctors are no more than a type of swindler, either intentional or unintentional, and I sympathize with deceived sick people and their families.” Such sentiments were common among the upper classes and the educated. Indeed, as we have seen, Mao himself didn’t use TCM practitioners. He wanted scientific “Western” medicine.
Mao’s strategy to deal with these criticisms was quite deliberate—and clever. It consisted of two strategies, both designed to mythologize TCM as being a scientifically sound and harmonious “whole medical system” and to provide “evidence” in the form of testimonials that it worked, as Levinovitz relates:
His solution was a two-pronged approach. First, inconsistent texts and idiosyncratic practices had to be standardized. Textbooks were written that portrayed Chinese medicine as a theoretical and practical whole, and they were taught in newly founded academies of so-called “traditional Chinese medicine,” a term that first appeared in English, not Chinese. Needless to say, the academies were anything but traditional, striving valiantly to “scientify” the teachings of classics that often contradicted one another and themselves. Terms such as “holism” (zhengtiguan) and “preventative care” (yufangxing) were used to provide the new system with appealing foundational principles, principles that are now standard fare in arguments about the benefits of alternative medicine.
The second part of the strategy was the dissemination of spectacular anecdotes to “prove” the efficacy of TCM. The most famous of these was the case of James Reston, a
New York Times editor who underwent an . Even though the surgeons there used a fairly standard anesthesia technique, described by my
as sounding like a “standard regional technique, most likely an epidural,” acupuncture was used to treat cramping on second evening after the surgery, which I interpreted as being the evening of postoperative day one. The story is fam about a day and a half after surgery Reston had some cramping, likely due to postoperative ileus that kept the gas from moving through his bowels the way it normally does. It passed after an hour or so. Around that time, the staff at the hospital used acupuncture to treat his discomfort, and the logical fallacy known as
fallacy (and a bunch of credulous Westerners, eager to believe that some magical mystical “Eastern” wisdom” could do what “Western medicine” could not, did the rest. Most likely what happened is that Reston finally farted, letting the built up gas move through and relieving the cramps and bloating. About a day or two after an uncomplicated appendectomy is about right for that.
Over time, reports of “acupuncture anesthesia” trickled out of China to a welcoming, credulous “Western” press. When examined closely by doctors who know about anesthesia (such as an anesthesiologist), these stories universally have big holes in them. Just a few examples were
by an anesthesiologist, again my good bud Kimball Atwood. In fact, you can view Levinovitz’s article as the CliffsNotes version of the campaign by Mao to convince the West that acupuncture (and, by extension, TCM) worked as well or better than any “Western medicine.” Read Kimball Atwood’s epic
(, , , , and ) for the detailed version. Of particular interest to students of “integrative medicine” is , in which Dr. Atwood has an entire section entitled “From ‘Co-operation’ to ‘Integration,'” in which he lists the five main party slogans about TCM:
1945-50 ‘The Co-operation of Chinese and Western Medicines’
1950-8 ‘The Unification of Chinese and Western Medicines’
1950-53 ‘Chinese Medicine studies Western Medicine’
1954-8 ‘Western Medicine studies Chinese Medicine’
1958- ‘The Integration of Chinese and Western Medicines’
Mao’s idea was nothing less than the complete unification of TCM and “Western” medicine, as quoted by Kimball Atwood further from The Private Life of Chairman Mao:
Mao laughed. ‘The theory of yin and yang and the five elements really is very difficult,’ he said. ‘The theory is used by doctors of Chinese medicine to explain the physiological and pathological conditions of the human body. What I believe is that Chinese and Western medicine should be integrated. Well-trained doctors of Western medicine should learn C senior doctors of Chinese medicine should learn anatomy, physiology, bacteriology, pathology, and so on. They should learn how to use modern science to explain the principles of Chinese medicine. They should translate some classical Chinese medicine books into modern language, with proper annotations and explanations. Then a new medical science, based on the integration of Chinese and Western medicine, can emerge. That would be a great contribution to the world.’
It’s certainly a “contribution,” but it’s certainly not “great.” Unfortunately, it is a contribution that keeps on giving. “Integrative medicine” today echoes the very same arguments pioneered by Chairman Mao, the Chinese medical establishment 60 years ago, and one of the greatest mass propaganda machines that ever existed. Of all the TCM modalities, acupuncture benefited the most from Chinese propaganda. Most people are unaware of TCM tongue diagnosis (which is basically reflexology, with organs mapped to areas of the tongue rather than to areas of the soles of the feet or palms of the hand) or its ideas of balancing five elements. Almost everyone, however, knows what acupuncture is, and many of them believe that there might be something to it, the more so given that so many academic medical centers are embracing quackery like acupuncture wholesale.
Moreover, acupuncture is probably not nearly as ancient as its advocates portray it. Common portrayals of acupuncture paint it as being 3,000 years old, as implausible as that is. Why implausible? For one thing, the technology to make such incredibly thin needles didn’t exist 3,000 years ago. For another thing, as , the earliest Chinese medical texts from the 3rd century BC don’t mention acupuncture, and the earliest reference to “needling” is from 90 BC referring to bloodletting and lancing abscesses. Indeed, even by the 13th century the earliest accounts of Chinese medicine reaching the West didn’t mention acupuncture, and the first account of acupuncture by a Westerner in the 1600s described large golden needles inserted into the skull and left in place for 30 respirations. It
that acupuncture evolved from bloodletting based on astrology.
While it is true that there was such a thing as Chinese folk medicine that’s existed for hundreds of years, the phenomenon of TCM as we know it today was invented—or perhaps I should say “re-invented”— nearly out of whole cloth by Chairman Mao, whose powerful propaganda machine used a combination of “harmonizing” inconveniently unharmonious sources and manufacturing a dog and pony show of testimonials and demonstrations of “acupuncture anesthesia” to sell it first to the Chinese people and then to the rest of the world. The entire undergirding of TCM is little more than vitalism, magical thinking, and five elements instead of four. It is very depressing to think there are more than a few Very Serious Academic Doctors out there who have bought into this myth and have even widened Mao’s vision of “integration” beyond “integrating” SBM with TCM to include virtually every form of magical quackery in existence.
October 25, 2013
The mysticism around all things labeled “Chinese” was strong in the late 60’s and early 70’s. Consider the TV series Kung Fu, (you gotta admit, seeing Kwai Chang carry that cauldron of boiling water out into the snow was cool) as well as Bruce Lee’s films. And then, of course, there is that “ancient Chinese secret” Calgon commercial ().
This makes me wonder how much of all these baby boomers falling for CAM isn’t due to marketing messages of all-things-Chinese in the US combined with Mao’s invention of TCM (which quacksters can cite for almost anyt snake oil they push).
New comments have been temporarily disabled.
Please check back soon.
Subscribe via:
Recent Insolence delivered
Last week, I wrote about a man named Jim Gass, a former chief legal counsel for&
If you grew up, as I did, a child of the 1970s in the US (I&
There are reasons that I’m not a pediatrician. First, and foremost, I like surgery. Indeed, when&
This weekend was the 4th of July, Independence Day. It’s the most patriotic holiday of all,&
It’s been over three weeks now since hockey legend Gordie Howe died at the age of&
There are so many ridiculous alternative medicine treatments being “integrated” via “integrative” medicine into medicine, no&
One of the most reliable indicators of a quack clinic that I know of (besides its&
Forgive me, dear readers.
Ever since Mike Adams, the crank who runs and “alternative health” empire and&
I’ve been writing about this topic so long—ever since the very beginning of this blog—that it&
One of the most frequent complaints about evidence-based medicine (EBM), in contrast to science-based medicine (SBM),&
A week ago, I wrote about an example of one of the most common topics on&
Yesterday, I took note of a meeting of advocates and lawyers with Rep. Jason Chaffetz (R-UT),&
Schedule of Insolence
October 2013
Categories
Select Month
July 2016 &(6)
June 2016 &(22)
May 2016 &(21)
April 2016 &(20)
March 2016 &(25)
February 2016 &(19)
January 2016 &(21)
December 2015 &(21)
November 2015 &(20)
October 2015 &(21)
September 2015 &(21)
August 2015 &(21)
July 2015 &(24)
June 2015 &(21)
May 2015 &(21)
April 2015 &(20)
March 2015 &(22)
February 2015 &(20)
January 2015 &(21)
December 2014 &(21)
November 2014 &(19)
October 2014 &(25)
September 2014 &(24)
August 2014 &(21)
July 2014 &(24)
June 2014 &(23)
May 2014 &(21)
April 2014 &(22)
March 2014 &(24)
February 2014 &(20)
January 2014 &(22)
December 2013 &(20)
November 2013 &(23)
October 2013 &(24)
September 2013 &(22)
August 2013 &(21)
July 2013 &(23)
June 2013 &(21)
May 2013 &(23)
April 2013 &(25)
March 2013 &(22)
February 2013 &(22)
January 2013 &(25)
December 2012 &(21)
November 2012 &(22)
October 2012 &(24)
September 2012 &(23)
August 2012 &(24)
July 2012 &(22)
June 2012 &(27)
May 2012 &(24)
April 2012 &(25)
March 2012 &(24)
February 2012 &(23)
January 2012 &(30)
December 2011 &(30)
November 2011 &(25)
October 2011 &(24)
September 2011 &(26)
August 2011 &(30)
July 2011 &(25)
June 2011 &(30)
May 2011 &(33)
April 2011 &(36)
March 2011 &(39)
February 2011 &(32)
January 2011 &(36)
December 2010 &(31)
November 2010 &(33)
October 2010 &(38)
September 2010 &(33)
August 2010 &(35)
July 2010 &(46)
June 2010 &(39)
May 2010 &(41)
April 2010 &(43)
March 2010 &(46)
February 2010 &(44)
January 2010 &(45)
December 2009 &(44)
November 2009 &(43)
October 2009 &(52)
September 2009 &(52)
August 2009 &(48)
July 2009 &(56)
June 2009 &(48)
May 2009 &(50)
April 2009 &(48)
March 2009 &(53)
February 2009 &(48)
January 2009 &(58)
December 2008 &(54)
November 2008 &(51)
October 2008 &(59)
September 2008 &(59)
August 2008 &(69)
July 2008 &(50)
June 2008 &(63)
May 2008 &(66)
April 2008 &(59)
March 2008 &(60)
February 2008 &(58)
January 2008 &(72)
December 2007 &(72)
November 2007 &(70)
October 2007 &(76)
September 2007 &(69)
August 2007 &(83)
July 2007 &(86)
June 2007 &(83)
May 2007 &(89)
April 2007 &(88)
March 2007 &(85)
February 2007 &(64)
January 2007 &(85)
December 2006 &(96)
November 2006 &(87)
October 2006 &(86)
September 2006 &(77)
August 2006 &(88)
July 2006 &(82)
June 2006 &(77)
May 2006 &(81)
April 2006 &(73)
March 2006 &(98)
February 2006 &(55)