The Crow's Ear
I am now certain that Avedon Carol (of The Sideshow) is a person after my own heart for pointing out this gem from The International Herald Tribune
Just 15 hours after he died on Saturday night, the great pageantry around the death of a pope began Sunday morning, with a huge public Mass in St. Peter's Square and then the first rites of his funeral: The 84-year-old John Paul was laid out in Clementine Hall, dressed in white and red vestments, his head covered with a white bishop's miter and propped up on three dark gold pillows. Tucked under his left arm was the silver staff, called the crow's ear, that he had carried in public.
Of course, those of us who know that the word for his staff is crozier (or "crosier", says my American Heritage Dictionary), feel smugly superior and quickly deduce that the story must have been transmitted verbally by telephone.
[Excerpt from "A public end for an extraordinary papacy" , by Ian Fisher of The New York Times, 4 April 2005.]
In: All, Common-Place Book, Raised Eyebrows Dept., Such Language!
Black is White
Expanding on the tradition of death-bed conversions:
WASHINGTON, April 8 – Arthur J. Finkelstein, a prominent Republican consultant who has directed a series of hard-edged political campaigns to elect conservatives in the United States and Israel over the last 25 years, said Friday that he had married his male partner in a civil ceremony at his home in Massachusetts.
Mr. Finkelstein, 59, who has made a practice of defeating Democrats by trying to demonize them as liberal, said in a brief interview that he had married his partner of 40 years to ensure that the couple had the same benefits available to married heterosexual couples.
"I believe that visitation rights, health care benefits and other human relationship contracts that are taken for granted by all married people should be available to partners," he said.
["G.O.P. Consultant Weds His Male Partner", by Adam Nagourney, 9 April 2005.]
In: All, Common-Place Book, Raised Eyebrows Dept., Splenetics
Gender Wars: The Shower
In the war over the question whether gender differences are nature or nurture, some of the more important skirmishes take place in domestic settings. For instance, the disagreement whether it is more "natural" so keep the toilet-seat lid up or down. This particular question is outside the scope of this meagre posting, although I note in passing that our household has no contention over this issue: there are some advantages to the gay lifestyle, and this is one of them.
Another question that seems to be a major discriminator is this: whether it is "natural" to pee in the shower.
Most guys that I've talked to about it (at least, the ones who stuck around when I asked), think it's perfectly "natural". After all, you're standing there, and all that running water is giving you ideas, and it's, like, all running water that's instantly going to wash everything away anyway, so where's the difficulty? (Let's set aside for the moment the bigger question of guys' propensity for peeing in unusual places.)
(These guys, by the way, can make this all seem perfectly normal when — let's face it — a whole bunch of them have otherwise very unusual peeing rituals. For those who wouldn't be arrested for attempting to do so: observe guys at urinals and their unusual habits. For instance, the ones who can only pee into running water and have to keep flushing; the ones who seem to be having a race and try to flush so that they'll stop peeing the moment the water stops running; the guys who can't stand to touch the valve handle and so execute a kung-fu maneuver with feet or elbows in order to flush; the guys who insist on flushing before they can start peeing. On and on and on….]
Anyway, the women whom I ask for enlightenment all exhibit a strong ick reaction to the very idea, and think the whole thing is "unnatural".
Now, what's that all about?
In: All, Splenetics, The Art of Conversation
Scholarly Attention
INCLUDING its three seasonal specials, the [Boston] Globe publishes about 150 full pages a year filled with stories about high school teams, their games, scores, summaries, prospects, and interviews, often with pictures of coaches and athletes. At the same time, high school academic achievement is almost completely ignored.
Science fair winners, AP scholars, Emerson Prize winners, math Olympiad contestants, Model UN competitors, debate team winners, Latin exam gold medalists, college acceptances, and many other subjects for stories about good academic work are not given the same prominence.
[…]
There has been anti-intellectualism in American life for a very long time, of course, but these days we can least afford it, and there is no excuse to continue to promote it now.
[Letter to the Editor of The Boston Globe, "Give scholars same attention as athletes", by Will Fitzhugh and Michael Shaughnessy.]
So Many Threats
"It didn't occur to me that there would be as many threats, and I do receive them," [Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day] O'Connor said [in remarks at Goucher College in Towson, Maryland]. "I don't think the harsh rhetoric helps. I think it energizes people who are a little off base to take actions that maybe they wouldn't otherwise take."
[…]
O'Connor said tensions have historically existed between Congress and the courts, but she added: "It isn't any more pleasant today. … And I hope that we will see an end to this, but it won't happen right away, and it will take the work of thoughtful citizens who say, 'We don't want to have this from either extreme, so let's move on.'"
[excerpt from "Justice O'Connor warns against harsh political rhetoric", by By Gail Gibson, The Baltimore Sun, 8 April 2005.]
On-Topic Blogging
At TalkLeft I read
There's cat-blogging (see here, here and here), basset blogging, orchid blogging and all sorts of off-topic blogging in the blogosphere on Fridays.
I find that a curious thing to say: ".. all sorts of off-topic blogging…". And what, precisely, would be "on-topic blogging"?
I told Isaac last night that I knew I'd been reading too many political blogs when, while reading some science headlines, I saw this headline (or something like it, since I haven't recovered the link*)
Evolved Newt Threatens Garter Snake
and my first thought was: …so they're calling Tom DeLay "Garter Snake" now.
There are lots and lots of people who use blogs to write on lots and lots of different topics — I find more every day, and I'm not even looking. Myself, I find it a useful and inspiring outlet for writing out all manner of thoughts that, I'm pleased to say, don't fit terribly neatly into just one topic. My mind feels like that most times, and I'm afraid my blog is a messy reflection of what's going on in my mind.
So: "off-topic blogging"…?
There was an interesting study released recently, with a fascinating and highly decorative graph showing connections (as in links and references) between various blogs. The connection graph, done in red and blue (some surprise there!) showed a big red blob and a big blue blob, with very few cross-over connections.
The conclusion was that "liberal blogs" linked predominantly to "liberal blogs", and — wait for it! — "conservative blogs" connected mostly with "conservative blogs".
A pretty graph, but not a surprising picture really. Political blogging is like that: lots of people reinforcing what each other says, apparently in an effort to see which side can say it the loudest and get the most points (what I think of as "junior debating points", since it's usually accompanied by the sophomoric attitude that one "scores points" against one's opponents, and democracy is the prize). After awhile all the shouting becomes like so much brainwashing. I know that my own eyes start to ache and blur, and my independent mental processes start to vanish.
The presumption that blogs are either "liberal" or "conservative" reinforces the idea, unspoken but prevalent, at least among political bloggers, that the only true blog is the political blog.
Political bloggers take themselves very, very seriously. They all imagine that they are doing work without which our democracy would already have crumbled. They all seem to be just waiting for the chance to yell "I broke that story! I broke it!" with embarrassingly childish glee and adamance. I suppose without this remarkable energy and self-esteem no one would bother, but would that be so bad? Oh, yes, I overstate my case somewhat. I like reading political blogs well enough, but they can get tedious the way that cocktail parties overflowing with self-important people can get tedious very quickly. If only we could talk more about things that really matter.
How can you tell when you've stumbled into a serious, political blog? One of the warning signs I've noticed is that in addition to mentioning each other frequently (either positively for those of the same persuasion, or derisively for those of the opposite persuasion), they always refer to each other by their first names. It's very tiresome, in the manner of faux Hollywood insiders, or those breathing the rarified inner-circle air inside the Beltway. What's interesting is that outside those rarified circles that some toadies will kill to get in to, most people don't care a lick and go about their lives none the worse for their deprivation.
Sometimes the "conservative blogs" (plus the rest of the "conservative media") are referred to as an "echo machine". I see that easily, since it's my own observation that these red and blue groups spend a lot of energy reinforcing what the other one's saying.
But, along the lines of the old chestnut "suppose they gave a war and nobody came", suppose Anne Coulter (just to grab an example) wrote her drivel and no one read it? One can choose not to read her (or some of the other equally execrable political hyenas) — I do. Choose not read her, that is. NB: I would never have heard of her if it weren't for the unseemly rush of her detractors (i.e., those of my own political persuasion) to smack her down a good one.
In much the same way that one frequently gets the impression that the main job of lawyers is to create work for other lawyers, it sometimes seems that there would be no point to political bloggers (i.e., real bloggers) if it weren't for other political bloggers of opposing views. I know, I know, they all believe that they're providing vital analysis on important topics. I just have trouble believing that there's that much to analyze. It's similar to the way I think our economic system has suffered because of far too much scrutiny, fart too many radio and television programs analyzing "the market" (you know which one I mean).
So, I think I will continue on breaking tradition with real bloggers and make everyday an off-topic day. All I need now is a catchy little tune to go along with the idea.
__________
*[11 April 2005] Found it: "Deadly newt no match for highly evolved garter snake".
In: All, Eureka!, Splenetics
The Papal Legacy
But John Paul II's most lasting legacy to Catholicism will come from the episcopal appointments he made. In order to have been named a bishop, a priest must have been seen to be absolutely opposed to masturbation, premarital sex, birth control (including condoms used to prevent the spread of AIDS), abortion, divorce, homosexual relations, married priests, female priests and any hint of Marxism. It is nearly impossible to find men who subscribe wholeheartedly to this entire catalogue of certitudes; as a result the ranks of the episcopate are filled with mindless sycophants and intellectual incompetents. The good priests have been passed over; and not a few, in their growing frustration as the pontificate of John Paul II stretched on, left the priesthood to seek fulfillment elsewhere.
[…]
Sadly, John Paul II represented a different tradition [from that of the Apostle Peter, claimed by the church as the first Pope], one of aggressive papalism. Whereas John XXIII endeavored simply to show the validity of church teaching rather than to issue condemnations, John Paul II was an enthusiastic condemner. Yes, he will surely be remembered as one of the few great political figures of our age, a man of physical and moral courage more responsible than any other for bringing down the oppressive, antihuman Communism of Eastern Europe. But he was not a great religious figure. How could he be? He may, in time to come, be credited with destroying his church.
[from "The Price of Infallibility", by Thomas Cahill, the New York Times, 5 April 2005.]
How Astrology Works
For the last little bit, Richard Rockley at Skeptico has been posting answers he's received in response to his "Astrology Challenge", which asks the question "how did they make all this stuff up to begin with", surely a defining question.
As he discusses this latest response to his query, he claims to find the explanation a bit on the impenetrable side.
Tsk. I think he just needs to loosen his mental processes, relax and go with the worldlines.
I once encountered a similar problem with a self-proclaimed astrology skeptic (who wasn't terribly skeptical) in a Usenet newsgroup. He wrote:
Y'know, I would have a lot more faith in things astrological, if sometime during one of my (admittedly few) professional readings, the reader had noticed that I was born during a total eclipse. I can't imagine a much more dramatc sky event during a much more dramatic time of my life, and while I'm fairly openminded, having a professional completely miss that little detail makes me somewhat skeptical about the whole science.
I wrote (I have a copy of the original posting here):
I suppose it's just possible that an unseen confluence of celestial hyperethereality may have negatively impacted on the harmonic forces of the occultation, but that doesn't seem very likely, does it?
Or, perhaps there was a metadegradation of the interspheroidal tides, which has been known
to lead to intragravitational anomolies in the Riemannian curvature of the space-graviton continuum. This can really mess up the Levi-Cevita tensor [in contraction], promoting the appearance of spontaneous singularities in the field equations. Usually, though, this effect is rather small. Assuming, of course, that one accepts the strong equivalence principle.
I'm much more inclined to think that the problem was an obscuration in the actual charting of
the stellar systhesis plot. Most likely this was brought on because you were born on the descending limb of the solsticial ascension.
Now, eclipses at that nexus are rather rare events, so computing the higher-order corrections in the perturbation expansions is a very tricky business, and rotational polarization aberrations can sometimes result in prolate oblateness. Nasty.
Be skeptical if you want, but we're talking science here.
If you ask me, this answer would work just as well as a general explanation for how astrology could work so accurately — the answer is that good.
In: All, It's Only Rocket Science, Splenetics
Tangled Bank XXV
The Tangled Bank XXV, hosted this time at Respectful Insolence (a.k.a. "Orac Knows"), is an example of a phenomenon, until very recently unknown to me, known in the blogoon as a "Blog Carnival". It's a pretty cool idea, actually, so it's nice that someone thought of it.
The Tangled Bank, which originated with PZ Myers of Pharyngula, deals with "articles in the field of science and medicine, very broadly defined".
Well, sometimes I deal with science, and I like that "very broadly defined" bit. Sometimes I do manage to deal with real scientific thoughts and serious ideas — occasionally, at least.
So the other night when I was siezed with an undeniable fever to write some notes on my notions concerning "Negative Selection" about how Evolutionary Biologists had gotten it all wrong (c'mon, I know better than to try the old "here's how Einstein boo-booed" trick), I also decided to "throw cochon to the wind" (as we sometimes say at home — kind of like "when pigs fly" which is, incidentally, one of our favorite musical revues) and submit my late-night delusional writing for this week's Tangled Bank.
Well, Orac kindly included a reference as part of his witty and effervescent presentation of Tangled Bank XXV. Take a look; you'll enjoy it.
In: All, It's Only Rocket Science, The Art of Conversation
My Favorite Pope
This week is all-things papacy week, but I don't feel the need to pontificate [!], laud, or excoriate the late John Paul II. Instead, I'll say a few words about my favorite pope: Paul V.
Pope Paul V succeeded Leo XI in 1605; he served until his own death in 1621 when he was succeeded by Gregory XV (not "Gregory the Great", nor Gregory XIII of Gregorian calendar fame). Paul V was a Roman, born Camillo Borghese of the prominant and powerful Borghese family.
He's remembered for various things, one of the big ones being a dispute that he had with Venice. As related by Wikipedia
In April 1606 the Pope took the step of excommunicating the entire government of Venice and placed a interdict on the city. All clergy sided with the city, however, with the exception of the Jesuits, the Theatines, and the Capuchins, who were expelled from Venetian territories. Masses continued to be said in Venice, and the feast of Corpus Christi was celebrated with outstanding public pomp and magnificence, to the Pope's chagrin. Within a year (March 1607) the disagreement was mediated by France and Spain. The Serenissima refused to retract the laws, but asserted that Venice would conduct herself "with her accustomed piety." The Jesuits, considered subversive Papal agents, remained banned. No more could be expected. The Pope withdrew his censure.
This is probably what Wikipedia refers to, among other things, as part of his "hard-edged Catholic diplomacy". It's pretty clear that he's not my favorite because he was an all-around nice guy.
He also met with Galileo in 1616, after Galileo had been warned by Cardinal Bellarmine (on Paul's orders) not to "hold or defend the heliocentric ideas of Copernicus". So, it should be obvious that he's not my favorite because he was a patron of the sciences.
He gets the credit for completing St. Peter's Basilica, although some people think it's tacky that he had this engraved above the main entrance
IN HONOREM PRINCIPIS APOST PAVLVS V BVRGHESIVS ROMANVS PONT MAX AN MDCXII PONT VII
(In honor of the prince of apostles; Paul V Borghese, pope, in the year 1612 and the seventh year of his pontificate)
The real reason why he's my favorite will not impress the pious, I fear. When we visited Rome a few years back, among the many outstanding galleries we toured was the "Museo e Galleria Borghese", the Borghese Gallery, occupying the restored Borghese Villa. It was fabulous indeed. Among the things that caught our eyes were the two busts of Paul V sculpted by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (the Bernini — as in: "have you seen our Bernini", something that tour guides say in every respectable gallery in Rome).
The photo at right shows one of the busts, and you can probably see right away how appealing Isaac and I might find Camillo Borghese: the short, butch hair cut, the round face and penetrating gaze, the ultra-fashionable beard tapering to a little van Dyke-y point….
Thus, to my mind, Paul V was probably the hottest looking Pope in history, and that's why he's my favorite.
In: All, Beard of the Week, The Art of Conversation
Since When?
Over the past two weeks, we have heard descriptions of the Constitution that bear no resemblance to the actual document or any of its relevant interpretations over the past 200 years. Since when does Congress tell the courts how to resolve a particular case? Since when do our national legislators single out one family to give special rights to? Since when does the governor of a state try to countermand a series of final court orders by pushing to take custody of a woman whose legal status already had been determined? Since when are judges accused of making "public policy" as "activists" when all they've done is interpret existing law? Since when do the sloths in Congress move like vipers to enact legislation in a day?
The legal and political dynamic we have just endured is an order of magnitude more ominous than the crisis we narrowly avoided immediately following the 2000 election. It is worse by far than the impeachment of President Clinton. It almost rises (or sinks) to the level of constitutional gravity we experienced a generation ago, during the depths of the crisis involving President Nixon and Watergate.
[Excerpt from "Schiavo was calm eye of the perfect storm" by Andrew Cohen in the Denver Post, 3 April 2005.]
We're Single. Really.
Once again, the fabulous Deb Price in the Detroit News:
But [Deb Price's partner] Joyce never gets frustrated until she turns her attention to our taxes — hers and mine, that is. To my mother, our mortgage company, our credit union, American Express, my minister and even our Spanish teacher, we're a unit –blended financially and emotionally. Only U.S. governments insist on the fiction that we're single.
It makes it tricky sometimes to decide just what to check off on forms. At the moment, I'm working on IRS Form 1023 (Application for Recognition of Exemption Under Section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code) for Ars Hermeneutica. Isaac, my partner of nearly 13 years (12 October, if you want to send cards), is my co-incorporator and a director of the company. So, there's this question:
Part V, Question 2a:
Are any of your officers, directors, or trustees related to each other through family or business
relationships? If “Yes,” identify the individuals and explain the relationship.
The instructions, I suppose, clarify the situation by making it clear that we're not related in any way:
•“Family relationships” include the individual’s spouse, ancestors, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, siblings (whether by whole or half blood), and the spouses of children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and siblings.
So, do I stick to the instructions and say "no", or do I do what seems honest (and a bit politically activist) and say "yes" and explain?
After all, I don't want to do anything to upset the IRS.
In: All, Common-Place Book, Splenetics
Was Jesus That Way?
In a story by Elizabeth Day at the Telegraph News [UK], the "Rt Rev Gene Robinson, the Bishop of New Hampshire in the Episcopal Church of the United States" is quoted saying interesting things:
In answer to a question from the congregation [attending his recent address at the Christ Church of Hamilton and Wenham in Massachusetts] about how the acceptance of homosexuality could be squared with the scriptural emphasis on redemption for sins, the Bishop replied: "Interestingly enough, in this day of traditional family values, this man that we follow was single, as far as we know, travelled with a bunch of men, had a disciple who was known as 'the one whom Jesus loved' and said my family is not my mother and father, my family is those who do the will of God. None of us likes those harsh words. That's who Jesus is, that's who he was at heart, in his earthly life.
"Those who would posit the nuclear family as the be all and end all of God's creation probably don't find that much in the gospels to support it," he said.
In response, it seems that someone named Mr. Virtue (I'm not making this up!) is aghast that Bishop Robinson might suggest that Jesus was gay:
It is appalling deconstructionism from the liberal lobby which will spin even the remotest thing to turn it into a hint that Biblical figures are gay. It is so utterly preposterous to imply that Jesus's relationship with John was homo-erotic, but twisting the truth is the only way these people can get scriptural justification for their lifestyles. Can you imagine Calvin, Luther or Erasmus saying something like this? It is a wonder that thunder and lightning bolts don't strike Bishop Robinson down.
I like that thunder and lightning bit. And what, by the way, is so preposterous about the idea that Jesus was gay? I bet Mr. Virtue believe that's what happens when a person grows up with a distant father, even if that father happens to be omnipotent.
I begin to think that if I believe in God, I'd ask him/her/it to bless Bishop Robinson.
In: All, Common-Place Book, Splenetics
The Same Liberty?
We all declare for liberty; but in using the same word we do not all mean the same thing. With some the word liberty may mean for each man to do as he pleases with himself, and the product of his labor; while with others, the same word many mean for some men to do as they please with other men, and the product of other men's labor. Here are two, not only different, but incompatible things, called by the same name – liberty. And it follows that each of the things is, by the respective parties, called by two different and incompatible names – liberty and tyranny.
[Abraham Lincoln, via Shakespeare's Sister.]
The Human Clock
I'm fascinated and I'm envious: The Human Clock.
In: All, Raised Eyebrows Dept.
The Rapture Wager
Bill Moyers, in "Welcome to Doomsday" (The New York Review of Books), wrote in depth about Dispensationalist (those who believen in the imminent Rapture) dispensing with any need for Environmentalism or any other approach to husbanding the Earth's resources.
What does this mean for public policy and the environment? Listen to John Hagee, pastor of the 17,000- member Cornerstone Church in San Antonio, who is quoted in [Barbara] Rossing's book [The Rapture Exposed] as saying: "Mark it down, take it to heart, and comfort one another with these words. Doomsday is coming for the earth, for the nations, and for individuals, but those who have trusted in Jesus will not be present on earth to witness the dire time of tribulation." Rossing sums up the message in five words that she says are basic Rapture credo: "The world cannot be saved." It leads to "appalling ethics," she reasons, because the faithful are relieved of concern for the environment, violence, and everything else except their personal salvation. The earth suffers the same fate as the unsaved. All are destroyed.
It's a harrowing idea: if people actually believe this stuff about the fast approaching end and the benificence of their creator, it's going to be impossible to motivate them to do anything to husband Earth's resources more intelligently.
That wouldn't seem the most prudent course here either, although I'm sure their faith is unshakable in this regard.
As an atheist, I'm frequently reminded of Pascal's wager, basically, that one should wager that God exists since the payoff for the lucky winners is infinite. (See, e.g., Pascal's Wager.)
Well, isn't this "Rapture Wager" sort of the same thing in reverse?
After all, suppose one were to wager that our environment is in danger of collapse and the human race in danger of extinction if we don't take steps. By taking steps, we increase the chance that humankind continues to exist and evolve. If we were wrong and the Rapture indeed arrives next week, were we really so much worse off?
On the other hand, suppose we wager that the Rapture is just around the corner and God will provide so we should just go ahead and exploit all our natural resources without regard to the future. Rapture arrives as expected: no problem. Rapture fails to arrive: deep shit.
Now, as the disclaimer goes, past performance is no guarantee of future results, but let's look at a bit of history: an awful lot of awfully devout Christians have been waiting for the Second Coming of Jesus (a collateral event to The Rapture) pretty much since the week after he died the first time, and so far as we can tell it hasn't happened yet. Let's see: 2000 years, give or take, 104,000 weeks minus a few for change to Gregorian calendar … basically zero chance that Jesus touches down next week and all those tennis shoes are left behind.
So, to my mind and despite all the warning signs (see, e.g., my posting on The Prophetic Red Heifer), I'm not convinced that the chances for the Rapture next week are all that great.
Wouldn't it make more sense to bet that it's not going to happen really, really soon?
In: All, The Art of Conversation
Non-Hostile Casualties
Is it just me? I find the following paragraph very odd and unsettling. Thanks to a mention at the Whiskey Bar, we read this
(AP) — As of Saturday, April 2, 2005, at least 1,533 members of the U.S. military have died since the beginning of the Iraq war in March 2003, according to an Associated Press count. At least 1,162 died as a result of hostile action, according to the Defense Department. The figures include four military civilians.
The number 1,533 is upsetting enough as it is. But it's the figure between the lines that catches my attention (in rather the same way that sometimes it's worth remembering that foods that trumpet "90% fat free" are still 10% fat).
The implication of these figures is that 371 troops have died in the war not as a result of hostile action. Put another way, that's nearly 25% of our war casualties that are not the result of "hostile action"!
What does this mean? What would be the "not hostile action" here, and what is it about non hostility that kills so many troops?
In: All, It's Only Rocket Science, Raised Eyebrows Dept.
Fishy Links
This is another entry in the "questionable links" category (for when the times comes that there is such a category here).
My news feeds took me to a story, "Love At First … Smell", a diverting story, summarized well by the first paragraph:
Why do some males smell better than others? Scientists at Cardiff University, in collaboration with colleagues at Max-Plank Society, Germany – and the help of stickleback fish – have identified the chemical responsible.
I've been interested in the idea of smell's contribution to sexual attraction for some time, occasionally wondering (without much profit) what role differing odor attractions play in homosexual vs. heterosexual orientations, etc. But, as I sometimes say, this isn't about that.
No, it's about the keyword-matching links and how, once again, they've come up with unexpected and remarkable pairings.
For this story, at least when I loaded the page, there were two. First, in the sidebar of "Related News Stories", we find
Wasabi! Sushi Condiment May Prevent Cavities
It took me several moments of pondering what this story could possibly have to do with the stickleback research, until I realized that they both mentioned fish, although neither one was really about fish.
Then, speaking of fish, further down the page "Ads by Goooooogle", in addition to its own "Fresh Sushi and Sashimi" offering, suggested a linkto a site that apparently tackles the delicate problem of
Fishy Vaginal Odor?
I have no further comment at this time, thank you.
In: All, Raised Eyebrows Dept.
Arm-Chair Ears
I think I've been spending far too much of my humankind face-time lately exclusively with our amateur theatre group — it makes me over sensitive to the whining of self-important diva wannabes.
Let's consider the case of Mr. Dwight Vibbert (I won't even stoop to mocking his name), who writes, with some agitation, a letter expressing his concerns to the Boston Globe:
AT BSO [Boston Symphony Orchestra] rehearsals patrons hear a program soon to be performed as advertised in Symphony Hall. In the past we heard the pieces played without stop and start. But now maestro James Levine is stopping and making adjustments so that the music loses continuity, tempo, melody, rhythm, and the audience. If the last-minute rehearsal needs this much work at 10.30 a.m., can the BSO play at 8 p.m. that night?
You can tell from his WASPish prevarication that he's most upset by the injustice of it all (not to mention being slightly put upon by the usurpation of Maestro Ozawa's podium by James Levine); the give away is the way he tip-toes his way around so as not to weaken his stance of moral self-righteousness.
What he tries to avoid saying is that this is what's known as an open rehearsal — not a performance, but an actual rehearsal, to which the public is invited either for free, or at substantially reduced ticket prices. Mr. Vibbert might do well to keep in mind the nature of the performance he is watching, and the reason why the new music director might wish to point out a few different ways of doing things.
Mr. Vibbert, with an obvious ax to grind, goes on to suggest that the reason Mr. Levine has to keep stopping and instructing the orchestra is likely due to his choosing to program an over abundance of modern music. The nerve!
The audience is not happy with this rush to bring a large dose of contemporary music to Boston.
It is well to remember what the audience is looking for in musical expression: a sense of the eternal joy, a finding of self, and an affirmation of the conscious soul and inspired hope in the future. Beethoven and a few others provided all of this in abundance.
Presumably, by "the audience" Mr. Vibbert refers to the tut-tutting ones like himself who are attending the open rehearsal because they'd rather not suffer the expense of buying actual tickets. One might also note that, these days, "contemporary" is often referring to music from early in the last century. Tsk tsk.
His statement about the true meaning of music is amusing, I suppose, but I can't say that it really describes all the music that I think is valuable to the world. On the other hand, Mr. Vibbert seems willing to dispense with all other music except that of "Beethoven and a few others". It would certainly streamline the record-keeping at sheet-music and record stores.
There's enough material there for me to write a book, yet another one I've been thinking about, concerning this "only the best" culture that feels, well, that "only the best" will do, with the corollary notion that we might as well dispense with the second tier. What a bunch of bunk, not to mention tedious and boring to be stuck with "only the best". There is plenty of room and need for the second tier, the third tier, and so on. And this from someone (that would be me) who is not even an aesthetic relativist, but who believes that there is (objectively) great music, good music, less good music….
Well, it gives me an occasion to quote one of my favorites from Charles Ives (to whom I'm actually listening at this very moment, entirely by happenstance):
Beauty in music is too often confused with something that lets the ears lie back in an easy chair.
[Postface to 114 Songs, quoting his own Essays before a Sonata.]
Design Notions
Two pieces from The Panda's Thumb converge on a single issue for me when it comes to "intelligent [so-called] design":
In a posting on the Center (for the Renewal of) Science and Culture Media Complaints Division PR man Rob Crowther whines that a recent story in the Seattle Times disses Intelligent Design “theory” by saying
" … an opportunity for the Discovery Institute to promote its notion of intelligent design, the controversial idea that parts of life are so complex, they must have been designed by some intelligent agent."
['A "Robust" Theory? April Fool!', by Richard B. Hoppe.]
And
[…] the Discovery Institute has created a new blog, humbly entitled Intelligent Design the Future. … The purpose of the blog is to explore “issues central to the case for intelligent design, from the Big Bang to the bacterial flagellum and beyond.”
["Intelligent Design the Future", by Reed A. Cartwright.]
Okay, maybe not so much convergent as just useful and entertaining.
First off, the idea of referring to ID as a "notion" is brilliant and entirely appropriate in light of the silliness and dangerous idiocy of the "evolution is just a theory crowd". I think I will only now refer to the "intelligent-design notion", or the "notion of intelligent design".
Oh, yes, it's just a notion. "Honey, while you're at the sewing goods store would you pick me up a few intelligent-design notions for me? I used the last one yesterday."
So anyway, this notion is so grand and so compelling, so obvious, especially now that the ID Notionists have thought up the idea of "irreducible complexity", for which someone no doubt expects to be awarded a lot of junior-debater points. By now they're thinking that they're pretty unstoppable.
They can wave their hands and pronounce about the Big Bang all they want (say, where are all those "Strong Anthropic Cosmological Principle" people? This would seem a natural for them), but when it comes right down to it, it seems that their most compelling Darwinian counter-example is — ta da! — bacterial flagella!
Hey, I don't know about everyone else, but I'm pretty impressed by that. I never expected the not-necessarily-God-but-pretty-obviously-damned-intelligent designer to be an intelligent designer of such incredible subtlety that he/she/it would choose to put all of his/her/it's design signature into the flagellum of some bacteria.
Such subtle mastery, such incredibly intelligent design in such an unexpected and unlikely place almost guarantees that humankind would have to be highly evolved to discover it.
What a notion!
In: All, Eureka!, Splenetics