Superdelegates

The painting to the left is: "Freedom of Speech" (The Saturday Evening Post, February 20, 1943), by Norman Rockwell. An earlier study for this print is below.

As I suggested earlier, there has been a shameful void of both worthwhile reporting and relfective analysis during this perpetual presidential election cycle. I am thankful for the articles that buck this trend, such as the piece by Stanley Fish appearing in The New York Times this morning. The full text can be found here. The article looks at the history, moral standing and political requirements of the Democratic Party's "superdelegates". Here's a sample:


... when the group NoSuperDelegates urges the DNC “to not seat the Super-Delegates . . . and instead nominate the candidate leading in the delegate count,” what it is really urging is the jettisoning of the rules because its members fear the outcome that following them might produce.

Of course, they don’t see it that way. They see themselves engaged in a noble cause: “We are urging Americans to simply stand up for what is right and let democracy work the way it’s intended to.”

Whose intention and whose democracy would that be? Not the founding fathers, who were more fearful of democracy in 1787 than the Democratic elders are today. James Madison complained in Federalist 10 that “measures are too often decided . . . by the superior force of an interested and overbearing majority.” Democracies, he continued, have ever been “spectacles of turbulence and contention.”

Alexander Hamilton was even harsher in his judgment. Replying to the assertion that “pure democracy” would be “the most perfect government,” he declared, “no position is politics is more false” because “the ancient democracies, in which the people themselves deliberated, never possessed one feature of good government.” Indeed, he concluded, “their very character is tyranny.”

Federal laws exist to ensure transparent and orderly elections that adhere to certain principles. This I get. What is not clear to me is why some (not Stanley Fish) expect a similar, constitution-level standard of justice governing internal party processes. The two-party system that dominates our country today is not addressed in the U.S. Constitution, so while the method that a party uses to nominate a contender is fair game for criticism, only the members of that party can determine the party rules, and evaluate whether or not it is a "good" process for their members (and, I hope, for the country as a whole).

The fight over Superdelegates is interesting because it highlights an argument often heard in this country: Rules that have resulted in acceptable outcomes are good rules, but rules that have resulted - or may result - in unacceptable outcomes (the Electoral College in 2000, for example) must be discarded. This, clearly, makes the whole idea of pre-existing rules a) meaningless, b) dependent upon each individual's willingness to compare long-term consequences against short-term results, and c) dependent on each individual's current preference for things "acceptable" or "unacceptable".

One wonders if we are still a country with a long vision for stability.

Hurt

One of the final recordings - and the last video made - by the late Johnny Cash was of the song "Hurt", written by Nine Inch Nails / Trent Reznor. The story of how Cash came to cover the song, and Reznor's emotional reaction to it, is found here.

I hurt myself today,
to see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain,
the only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hole,
the old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away,
but I remember everything.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend.
Everyone I know,
goes away in the end.
And you could have it all,
my empire of dirt.

I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.

I wear this crown of thorns,
upon my liar's chair.
Full of broken thoughts,
I cannot repair.
Beneath the stains of time,
the feelings disappear.
You are someone else.
I am still right here.

What have I become?
My sweetest friend.
Everyone I know,
goes away in the end.
And you could have it all,
my empire of dirt.

I will let you down.
I will make you hurt.

If I could start again,
a million miles away.
I would keep myself.
I would find a way.

Afternoon snack

All recipes posted on Sed Digressio are tested thoroughly by credentialed professionals in our specially designed laboratory.

Now that the sun is setting later, a man's thoughts turn to afternoons on the deck. Just about my favorite thing to do is to sip on a margarita, enjoy some guacamole and deconstruct the world around me. So, mix up a set, go outside, and give me a call.

The Cadillac Margarita - a recipe I have modified over almost 20 years of testing - is an outstanding choice, but if you plan on going somewhere later, this is not for you. Serve it in a martini glass to get the point across to the uninitiated.

1.5 oz. of a nice tequila (Astral is my current choice.)
.5 oz. Cointreau
.5 oz. Grand Marnier
1 oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
.5 oz of honey (or agave nectar)
Salt

Rim a chilled martini glass with lime and coat with salt. Combine the tequila, Cointreau, Grand Mariner, lime juice and sweetener in a shaker with ice, shake, and let it sit for a minute or two. Shake again and serve. Repeat.

Making an incredible guacamole depends on one's ability to find fresh ingredients and the willingness to experiment with spices. I include various Indian curries (yes, really) in addition to a teaspoon of chili spices in order to give it a warm (but not too hot) contrast to the cool avocado. Don't be afraid to use more spice: Most guacamole is mediocre because it's too bland. If you can plan ahead (who has the time?), guacamole always tastes better on Day II. You'll need:

2 avocados (the more you use, the more spices you'll want to add)
1 small, chopped and strained tomato
.5 cup of minced shallot
4 cloves of minced garlic
1 teaspoon of fresh chilies, or 1 teaspoon of chili powder (at least, to taste)
2 limes, juiced (to taste)
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Minced cilantro leaves for garnish

It's good to mince where it says mince. If you have a potato masher, this is the best tool for combining the ingredients, but a hand mixer will do well, too. Leaving the final product in a mostly mixed state - as opposed to fully pureed - is more pleasing aesthetically in the same way that mostly dead is preferable to all dead.

Serve with salted blue corn chips.

Call The Digressor to discuss your visions of the eternal.

Cherry Blossom

"Cherry Blossom" (2005)

One significant benefit of my move back to Atlanta is a comparatively early Spring. While Washington, DC (and let's not even talk about Montana) lingers in darkness and cold, my current home is already surrounded by flowers and green grass. It's hard not to gloat, but I freely admit that one thing I will miss about being in DC during this time of year is The National Cherry Blossom Festival. If you're nearby, take a Wednesday afternoon off from work and enjoy the beauty.

Spring Training

Design by "Busted Tees"

Spring training is upon us, and a theological reminder is in order.

The Onion

The Onion never fails to get a laugh. This is one of my favorite articles by the online satirical magazine, The Onion.

Anytime a publication wants to write like this, I'm reading it:

"Then again," Pafko added, "every day is Hump Day, really." Later, as he does every day, Pafko headed to the company bathroom and sat for 20 minutes with a loaded gun in his mouth. Once the shakes subsided, he removed the bullets from the gun and returned to his desk.

WFB

I was saddened to see that William F. Buckley, Jr. was found dead earlier today. Whether or not one agreed with his positions, one cannot help but be impressed by his vision, his intellect, and his capacity to articulate both.

The National Review Online has thorough coverage of his passing, and here is a link to the NYTimes' article.

Nike

"The Winged Victory (Nike) of Samothrace" (220-190 B.C.), Unknown

A Man's Best Friend

Ella Dog Truslow

Expelled

The above is an extended trailer for the upcoming Ben Stein film / documentary titled, "Expelled: No intelligence allowed." Movie trailers are notoriously poor representations of films' actual content, but my initial impression is that this is a critique not of Darwinist thinking itself (though elsewhere Stein has said that Darwin's "ideas led to genocide not once but many times"), but of our culture's open hostility toward those who question scientific dogma. Stein seems implicitly to second Mark Twain's observation, that "whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."

A quick glance at the online reaction (update: here's some) suggests that the movie will be controversial, and the public discussion surrounding it will be reactive and uncivil. In short order, Ben Stein will be vilified as The Right's shabby response to Michael Moore (update: they did), an erroneous association.

The film may turn out in the end to be an anti-Darwinist piece, but the larger question is still well-considered: "Why do we demand that some popular ideas - even ideas grounded in empirical evidence - must not be questioned, and that other, minority beliefs must not be held at all?" If anything, the answer to that question suggests rigid limits to the essential American value most frequently given meaningless lip service: tolerance.

The Failure of Normality

Especially in this election-cycle-with-no end, the U.S. media should be faulted (and severely beaten) for failing in almost every circumstance to provide the general public with any historical context, any candidate accountability, any meaningful analysis, or coverage of any policy substance. It is truly shameful.

One article excepted from my Brutal Beatings List is a piece called, "The Failure of Normality: The unhappy lessons of the Thompson campaign", written by Andrew Ferguson and printed in the February 4, 2008 issue of The Weekly Standard.

Ferguson provides a very interesting overview of how and why Fred Thompson's campaign collapsed after starting off with such high expectations. The article does this by describing how candidates used to campaign for the presidency in the 19th and early 20th centuries, and argues that Thompson was a man out of time (and thus was doomed to fail). Thompson is here portrayed as unwilling to swap out his personal sensibilities and more traditional view of democracy for the modern (apparent) requirements of sound bites and non-stop campaigning.

He was a different kind of candidate but not an incompetent one. Indeed, his finest moment came in a debate before the Iowa caucuses, when the moderator asked the assembled candidates for a show of hands if they believed human activity caused climate change.

"Well, do you want to give me a minute to answer that?" Thompson said. When the moderator said she didn't, he said: "Well, then I'm not going to answer it. You want a show of hands, and I'm not going to give it to you."

The moderator looked as though Thompson had suddenly sprouted daffodils from his ears. So did his fellow candidates. After a stunned silence, they all courageously announced their refusal to show hands, too. They looked like the Little Rascals, hitching up their britches and flexing their biceps after Alfalfa clocked the neighborhood bully.

Ferguson also addresses the most oft heard criticism of Thompson, that he lacked "fire in the belly" - whatever that means. The article accepts this criticism as being accurate AND historically appropriate (if Thompson had been campaigning in the 1890s). Ferguson does a thorough job of describing the core democratic belief in the unseemliness of seeking power over other men, but if you've read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, then you got the basic thrust of the argument mirrored there:

"The major problem - ONE of the major problems, for there are several - one of the many major problems with governing people is that of whom you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them. To summarize: it is a well-known fact that those people who most want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. To summarize the summary of the summary: people are a problem."

Well, yes. Yes, they are. I think I'm done with politics for the year.

** Photo above is the film representation of Galactic President Zaphod Beeblebrox (a character from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and the point of the quote above). **

Allan B. Jones

"Self portrait" (1991), by Allan B. Jones

(click on painting for larger image)

The Princess Bride

The Princess Bride (1987) is like an old friend with whom I share a large repertoire of inside jokes.

I am not left-handed, either.

A secret life

John Hamilton, George Reeves, Noel Neill, Jack Larson, and Robert Shayne in "The Adventures of Superman" (1952-1958).

Almost as soon as I wrote about Post Secret, I came upon the following poem, "A Secret Life," by Stephen Dunn. My only contribution is to note how exhausting and debilitating a secret life can be. Unless you're Clark Kent, try to do without.

Why you need to have one
is not much more mysterious than
why you don't say what you think
at the birth of an ugly baby.
Or, you've just made love
and feel you'd rather have been
in a dark booth where your partner
was nodding, whispering yes, yes,
you're brilliant. The secret life
begins early, is kept alive
by all that's unpopular
in you, all that you know
a Baptist, say, or some other
accountant would object to.
It becomes what you'd most protect
if the government said you can protect
one thing, all else is ours.
When you write late at night
it's like a small fire
in a clearing, it's what
radiates and what can hurt
if you get too close to it.
It's why your silence is a kind of truth.
Even when you speak to your best friend,
the one who'll never betray you,
you always leave out one thing;
a secret life is that important.

Le Noeud Noir

"Le Noeud Noir / The Black Bow" (1882), by Georges Seurat

Love II (Post Secret)

I am a big fan of the Post Secret project (even when the creative contributions are not exactly "secrets"). Presently, there seems to be both a blog, and a community site worth checking out. Here is a good project intro video, and this video page on the community site is also full of interesting work.

Love

"Love in the afternoon" (1992), by Andrew Wyeth

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. - Anais Nin

Anger is the fluid that love bleeds when you cut it. - C.S. Lewis

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the perturbations of love is Hell. - C.S. Lewis

No people find each other more absurd than lovers. - C.S. Lewis

Love and Truth: Their warfare seems eternal. - E.M. Forster

A friend loves at all times. Proverbs 17:17

Icarus

As a young man in the late 1920s and early 1930s, John Winthrop Truslow, Sr., my grandfather, was an actual "barnstormer". This photo probably was taken near the family home in Summit, New Jersey. Click on the image for a larger version.

Life mimics art.

If you've seen the movie "Election", I'm pretty sure that commentary is not required here...

Modern Mythology

Drew Carey has created a series of thoughtful videos for Reason.tv. Here, he takes a look at one of contemporary America's most popular myths: The decline of the middle class. While I'm not entirely satisfied with his explanation for the narrative's genesis, I am thankful that someone took the time to consider the claims critically. Our culture is full of stories like these, and we've been getting an earful of them lately.

The video seems to suggest that a conspiratorial press and complicit politicians live at the root of this myth, but I don't think we can discount our society's insatiable desire for more, our unwillingness to have any historical or cultural perspective, or the stress associated with consumer credit debt reflected in the retelling. It could also be the case that as a culture, we no longer value work.

Update (2/11/2008): Be sure to check out Will's post on the subject, which contains a link to a well-done radio broadcast by "Marketplace".

Leisure

"The stare: Laysan Albatross, Midway Island" by Jay Holcomb

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

"Leisure", by W. H. Davies (William Henry Davies, 1871-1940)

Paul Potts

I do not care for "reality television" in any of its unscripted, overdone forms. In fact, I don't even own a real television (defined here as a device that actually does display a broadcast signal). When I travel, I watch whatever is on, and in doing so I've found that contestant oriented dramas such as American Idol make me cringe.

Therefore, it's not a surprise that I am likely the last person on the planet to hear the story of Paul Potts. No, not the insane, genocidal Brother Number One of Cambodia - because that would be weird - but here I write of the awkward, insecure, dentally challenged mobile phone salesman performing on American Idol's sister program in the United Kingdom, Britain's Got Talent.

The video above documents his initial performance on the show.

I did not see this coming, and neither did the judges.

Update (April 16, 2009):  Just as inspirational.

Evolution and Ethics

"Luna Moth / Actias Luna" (2007), by Honor Marks

In a very un-modern way, I routinely find myself struggling to accept the ethical implications of social and biological Darwinists. Generally, these Darwinists argue that what we call "morality" is a different way of articulating "those behaviors and characteristics that maximize surviving and thriving".

From time to time, I read thought provoking books (such as "The Moral Animal: Evolutionary Psychology and Everyday Life", by Robert Wright) or articles (such as "Three-way mating game of North American lizard found in distant European relative") on the subject and I get an uneasy feeling that what is undoubtedly fascinating science is being used to promote a highly questionable view of ethics and religion. It does happen.

The philosophical principle most often violated in this, and similar arguments is called the "fact-value distinction" (or perhaps, depending on the argument, the "is-ought distinction". Associated closely with David Hume, this principle asserts that one can not ground normative arguments in positive arguments. One can not say that because a being does behave a certain way, then it ought to behave that way, as some evolutionary psychologists do. The first claim belongs to the realm of description / empiricism, while the second is a prescriptive judgment. My dog does poop on my jackass neighbor's lawn, but one can not conclude from this that she has a moral obligation to do so.

Sed Digressio. Consider the following conclusion drawn from the scientific observation explained in the lizard article above:

Force defeats cooperation. Cooperation defeats deception. Deception defeats force.

What science can not tell us here is whether or not we should be forceful, cooperative, or deceptive - it only tells us the way the world is. We still must make a moral judgment about who we intend to be, and what we ought to do. Authors like Wright tend to blur this line, while I prefer the delineation to be sharp.

The Who

The Who, with a reputation not lacking in superlatives, was formed in 1964 and disbanded (for the first time) in 1983, though most believe the magic faded with their drummer's death in 1978. The band was known primarily for three things: a) live performances, which were astonishingly loud, chaotic events that often ended with the complete destruction of everything on stage, b) a "mod" style of dress (which was followed by other contemporary styles), and c) concept albums such as Tommy and Quadrophenia, the so-called "rock operas". The band was made up of Pete Townshend (guitar), Roger Daltrey (vocals), John Entwistle (bass) and Keith Moon, perhaps the greatest rock-and-roll drummer of all time (and inspiration for the Muppet character Animal).

Pete Townshend claims that the song in the performance above is his first attempt at a piece of music longer than two and a half minutes - he refers to it as "Tommy's parent". "A quick one while he's away" was written to fill a large gap on the Quick One album, and consists of six separate musical sections telling one narrative of loss, infidelity and forgiveness. The performance itself has an interesting story. Yes, that is Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones giving the intro (update: new version does not have Keith's intro). No, I don't know why the audience looks like a group of migrant farmers at a Gallagher show. The video below of "My Generation" concludes with collected footage of The Who destroying whatever they can get their hands on...

Long Live Rock.

Black and Violet

"Black and Violet" (1923), by Wassily Kandinsky

Wish you were here

"Hotel Room" (1931), Edward Hopper

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

by David Gilmour and Roger Waters

About the song

Young Redhead

"Young Redhead in an Evening Dress" (1918), by Amedo Modigliani

Edward Hopper in DC (Take Two)

"Eleven A.M." (1926), by Edward Hopper

Earlier today, I was able to return with William to the East Wing of the National Gallery to spend a good two hours in the Edward Hopper exhibit. It was amazingly crowded, but still a wonderful show. I can't get over the size of the canvases, the vibrant colors, nor the solemnity of the moments portrayed.

Hopper's wife, Jo, was his primary model for most of his paintings, so it stands to reason that many of the women have a similar look. In fact, my favorite Hopper painting now seems to contain a fully dressed version of the women on this page...

"Evening Wind" (1921), by Edward Hopper

Immortal Beloved

At the end of Ludwig van Beethoven's life in March of 1827, letters were found in his desk addressed to, "Immortal Beloved". The well-written 1994 film by that same name (trailer above) explores several theories regarding this woman's identity and why the two were never united.

It would seem that Beethoven had one true love, a "soulmate", and that a twist of fate kept them apart. The movie asserts that it was this source of passion, frustration and longing that fueled his anger and bitterness over the course of his life, resulting in some of the most transcendent music ever written.

I am fascinated by man's willingness (and capacity) to hold on to people, convictions and feelings indefinitely, even in the face of a contrary reality and long after hope is gone. The mystery to me is not that some people do hold on, but that some people do not. After all, what happened to Beethoven is not rare. Many, if not most people live their lives without that person or thing they care about the most. Apparently, there is a fine line between devotion and futility, just as there is a fine line between genius and insanity.

Here is one of Beethoven's letters to Immortal Beloved:

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I nedd a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a clam consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

ever thine
ever mine
ever ours

To start anew.

"Solen" / "The Sun" (1909 - 1916), by Edvard Munch.

Happy New Year.

Solitude

"La Toilette" (1896), by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

Though I value my time with friends and family, I need private space and ample opportunity to think through things on my own. I used to see this as a fault of mine, this inability to cope with reality while in the frequent presence of others, but now I suspect that it's a universal condition. I believe that each of us needs time alone, even removed from those we love the most. As Henri Nouwen wrote,

"Solitude is the furnace of transformation. Without solitude we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of the false self."

In the past, I've resorted to all manor of elaborate escape seeking solitude, from fleeing the hemisphere to spending time in a monastery. For the foreseeable future, however, that kind of exodus is impossible. Enter "the Man Cave".

For the last six months or more - and concluding today - I've been working on my Man Cave, formerly a one-bedroom apartment in the basement complete with bathroom and kitchen. The details of this seemingly endless campaign are too boring even for friends who care, but the tasks have included painting, electrical work, tiling, trim installation and threatening legal action against various suppliers and contractors.

I am reminded of a wonderful passage on the subject in the book, "The Winter of Our Discontent", by John Steinbeck:

"It has no name in my mind except the Place - no ritual or formula or anything. It's a spot in which to wonder about things. No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself. Now, sitting in the Place, out of the wind, seeing under the guardian lights the tide creep in, black from the dark sky, I wondered whether all men have a Place, or need a Place, or want one and have none. Sometimes, I've seen a look in eyes, a frenzied animal look as of need for a quiet, secret place where soul-shivers can abate, where a man is one and can take stock of it."

So true.

What I've observed over the last several years is that contemporary American society does not readily tolerate a "professional" man's need for occasional solitude. At present, it is more acceptable for women to step away in order to rediscover or reinvent themselves (witness the huge success of the indulgently self-oriented book, "Eat, Pray, Love"), but men today who seek solitude as a source of strength and peace are considered apathetic, unfocused and unreliable. It remains the case that the extraordinary work of Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Mahatma Ghandi (not to mention Hitler, and let's not) all included significant periods of isolation and quiet contemplation.

But I ramble. The best book on the subject that I can suggest - and I do - is "Solitude: A Return to the Self" by Anthony Storr.

Get away.

Chimney Rock

This amazing photograph was taken by Ken Johnson, and records the lunar standstill at Chimney Rock (Colorado). Read this article to learn how this particular celestial event may have played an important role in the location of certain Anasazi structures. Click on the photo for a larger version.

The Technological Imperative

"The Scream" (1893), by Edvard Munch

I was watching the trailer for the film Naqoyqatsi and noted the tagline, "There is no more nature. There is only technology." That assertion made me think about the tense relationship between the two, and how the modern world is caught somewhere in the middle.

When philosophers invoke "the technological imperative", they refer to two closely related ideas that try to describe how human beings have come to perceive technology:

1) Once technological advances have been made, further progression is inevitable. In this sense, technological growth - and man's embrace of it - is unavoidable and can not be reversed. For example, can you imagine a future world in which people desired black and white televisions and gravel roads? How about one that rejected the use of antibiotics or tractors? Interestingly, while our society as a whole seems to accept that technological progress is inescapable, some individuals still attempt to moderate the impact of its onward march. Consider that Amtrak now carries a single "quiet car" on most northeastern routes in which cell phones can not be used, and some couples avoid pharmaceutical birth control strictly because it is "unnatural".

2) If something can be done (if it is technically possible), then it ought to be done. The most oft cited example of this view was the French politician Jacques Soustelle who said of the atomic bomb, "Since it was possible, it was necessary." This second view goes beyond the first notion of inevitability by suggesting a moral imperative. Therefore, if we can go to Mars, we ought to. If we can keep a man alive for 200 years, we ought to. If we can find a technical solution to a problem (perhaps one that has a compelling human or spiritual solution), we ought to employ technology.

Should we, really?

I am a big fan of technology, but I am increasingly wary of its influence on our lives, specifically the way in which it separates us from nature and deprives us of authentic human experience. Or, as Max Frisch put it,

“Technology is a way of organizing the universe so that man doesn’t have to experience it.”

What is "natural" and how much of our existence should include this quality, even at the expense of efficiency? I can't say that I know for sure. Email is fantastic, but we should weigh the value of a typewritten letter with the value of a face-to-face encounter. Does checking the weather online provide us the same connection to the earth as going outside and taking measurements - and does that matter? Is the use of a stethoscope really as valuable as a doctor putting his ear on your chest? Maybe, and maybe not.

The painting above is "The Scream" (1893), by Edvard Munch. In his diary, Munch wrote of this day, "... my friends walked on, and there I still stood, trembling with fear - and I sensed an endless scream passing through nature." I believe that it was good for Munch to feel nature's cry. I doubt that he would have had the same experience watching this sunset on television.

Merry Christmas

This icon is one of several that can be found here.

Opus

Opus, by Berkeley Breathed.

Merry Christmas to all you penguin lovers out there.

Offloading for Mrs. Schwartz

Elephants never forget.
Video found on the French website CUBE.

My favorite collection of short stories (which has nothing to do with elephants, but does have something to do with forgetting) is called, "Civilwarland in Bad Decline" by George Saunders. One of the more touching pieces from that book was originally printed in The New Yorker on October 5, 1992 (Tina Brown's first edition) and is called, "Offloading for Mrs. Schwartz".

This is a story about a man whose job is the memory trade, and his relationship with an elderly shut-in named Mrs. Ken Schwartz. Take a few minutes to listen to the story as read by the author on NPR's This American Life. The story itself begins at the 17:48 mark. Listening is free.

Homemade Sin

"Cheerios 1, 2, and 3", by Honor Marks.

I eat for many reasons, though these justifications seem derived mostly from two contesting paradigms: 1) It's good for me, and 2) It makes me feel good. More often than not, the extent to which some morsel is nutritious is inversely proportional to the degree of comfort it provides. At this time of year, I value health less than good cheer, and so I expand. I suppose that my diet is better than heroin or glue, but probably not by much. Besides, God gave us New Year's resolutions.

I have become more and more interested in cooking over the last several years. At first, I just wanted to get into a kitchen, and maybe "make something with my hands" (for once), so I volunteered to bake bread at my local Great Harvest Bread Company. Once I moved back to Atlanta, I began working as a Chef's Assistant at The Cook's Warehouse. This program lets one attend their very expensive cooking classes for free, in exchange for helping the primary chef prepare ingredients, teach the class, and clean up.

Anywho, while my thoughts are on food, and my waist, I wanted to share the following recipe. It's my favorite snack at Christmastime - my mother used to make this stuff by the metric ton. It's very simple to throw together, and it will boost your morale. Trust me.

"Homemade Sin"

• 18 Square graham crackers, crushed (put them in a zipper bag, squeeze out the air, & smash them in the bag)
• 6 oz. package of semi-sweet chocolate chips (or, try dark chocolate.)
• 6 oz. package of butterscotch morsels
• 1 cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts)
• 1 can sweetened condensed milk

My mother's instructions, "Mix everything together in a bowl. Turn the mixture into a very well greased (butter) 8" or 9" square pan for 25-30 minutes in a 350 degree oven. It should not get too hard while baking; just brown the top. It will look a little soft but will firm up some as it cools. Cool thoroughly before cutting into squares."

The art at the top of this page is by Honor Marks. Cheerios 1, 2 & 3 are three separate paintings presented as one triptych. Check out Honor's website for more wonderful work.

Hallelujah

One of the songs that has touched me the most over the last several years is the Leonard Cohen song, "Hallelujah". I became aware of John Cale's version (what I still consider the best) while curled up on the couch watching the show "Scrubs", and it brought me to tears. Above is the song as it appears in that episode, "My old lady". Cale's 1991 studio recording is surprisingly hard to get a hold of (mine came off of the 1996 Basquiat Soundtrack), but you can see a live performance below.

Over the years, and more often recently, this song has been recorded by a large number of people. Click here for a truly wonderful version by Jeff Buckley from the 1994 album Grace, vaguely reminiscent of the Cowboy Junkies' Trinity Sessions.

One cave at a time.

One of my former students, a U.S. Marine, doing the nation's business in Iraq. Photo taken by embedded reporter. Click on the photo for a much larger version.

Wassily Kandinsky

"Composition VII" (1913), by Wassily Kandinsky

Wassily Kandinsky's work is lovely to me. Colorful, fun, complex and almost entirely meaningless. Yes, yes, I know that to art purists the world over, hard core abstraction is rich and full of... whatever it's full of, but to me, it is solely aesthetic. I simply look, and enjoy. Make a point to see the large collection held by the Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris. (Click on either image for a larger version.)

"Yellow, Red, Blue" (1925), by Wassily Kandinsky

Regina Spektor

Regina Spektor's breakout album "Begin to Hope" was released in 2006 with the catchy single (and creative video) Fidelity, and rightfully made several critic's Top Ten lists. Her music is all at once sophisticated and childlike, melancholy and whimsical. Her voice is lovely, cutting and unique. This particular album is one of the extraordinary few to which I never tire of listening. The video above, "Us", is from an older album called "Soviet Kitsch". While not my favorite song, I think it gives the best example of her range and musical innovation. The video below, "On the radio", is from "Begin to Hope". Be sure to check out this version of the hit "Better", "Sampson", and the rest of her video postings on YouTube.com. And, if you click here, you can listen to an 80 minute concert broadcast on NPR using RealAudio. Good stuff.

Analemma

"Analemma Over New Jersey"
Tom Matheson of Guidescope.net

I found this wonderful slide show on the website, "Astronomy Picture of The Day". Here is the description taken from that page:

An analemma is that figure-8 curve that you get when you mark the position of the Sun at the same time each day throughout planet Earth's year. Above, 26 separate exposures were recorded to illustrate the regular solar motion -- a difficult project performed mostly during the calendar year 2006. The images were taken at 8 am in the morning in northern New Jersey, USA, and digitally combined with a single foreground image later. The individual images have since been combined into a movie. Solstices correspond to the top and bottom of the figure-8, indicating the northern and southernmost excursions of the Sun in the sky. The tilt of planet Earth's axis and the variation in speed as it moves around its orbit combine to produce the graceful analemma curve.

Here are several others taken directly from Astronomy Picture of the Day:

"The Analemma and the Temple of Olympian Zeus"
Anthony Ayiomamitis

"Solar Eclipse Analemma"
by Tunc Tezel and Cenk E. Tezel

"Martian Analemma"
Dennis Mammana of Skyscapes.com
(This last image is a simulation.)

Hope III

"Child in a Straw Hat" (1886), by Mary Cassatt

It's gonna be a girl. A confident, spirited girl.

Hermann Hesse

I've never made my peace with Hesse, though I've tried throughout several of his novels, from Demien, to Siddhartha, to The Steppenwolf. I don't agree with his belief that salvation is uncovered from within the self-realized individual, nor with the resulting disdain for religion, but I relate to his disgust at societal convention, and the general sense of separateness and isolation that modern life breeds.

It is Hesse's poetic style that impresses me the most. There are times when the reader feels more like he is holding a book of poetry than a novel. Here is a passage from The Steppenwolf, a book so powerful that one of my closest friends has a Steppenwolf tattoo on his upper arm:

"There is much to be said for contentment and painlessness, for these bearable and submissive days, on which neither pain nor pleasure cry out, on which everything only whispers and tiptoes around. But the worst of it is that it is just this contentment that I cannot endure. After a short time it fills me with irrepressible loathing and nausea. Then, in desperation, I have to escape into other regions, if possible on the road to pleasure, or, if that cannot be, on the road to pain. When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my rusty lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the most devilish pain burn in me than this warmth of a well-heated room. A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to commit outrages, to pull off the wigs of a few revered idols, to provide for a few rebellious schoolboys with the longed-for ticket to Hamburg, to seduce a little girl, or to stand one or two representatives of the established order on their heads. For what I always hated and detested and cursed above all things was this contentment, this healthiness and comfort, this carefully preserved optimism of the middle classes, this fat and prosperous brood of mediocrity."

"The Holidays"

As The United States approaches "the holiday season", I feel my psyche begin to harden (as it does every year) in large part due to my anticipation of the abundant arrogance and emptiness that our culture will express through rampant consumerism over the next several weeks. Put another way, I am a Christian, and I hate the "celebration" of Christmas precisely because the two have so little to do with each other. For the sake of all that IS good in the world, Christmas as we know it should be driven out of existence.

These shouldn't be radical ideas: This Thanksgiving, try telling people how thankful you are for them. It's not easy, but loved ones are too precious and too easily lost. For Christmas, direct your gifts toward people who NEED, not those who WANT. Give creatively and generously (and anonymously, if you can) to the poor, and share a drink with the rest. For Christians, "The Spirit of Christmas" is summed up in John 3:16, not in dollars. You can convey that love without stressing out, without spending a dime, without fighting the crowds, and without becoming part of The Problem.

To be clear, I am a market capitalist, but no like-minded economic theorist sees unchecked capitalism (or utilitarianism, for that matter) as a pure good. Mill and Bentham both, for example, assumed one such limitation when they presupposed the individual possessing a principled set of moral values and skills that fundamentally governed his behavior. Even in the face of aggressive pressure, these foundational notions would bring about balanced, rational decisions in the marketplace. Without this cohesive set of external and primary beliefs, we get what most people call "consumerism", which is a self-referential set of principles derived from the material goods themselves. This is what makes me hurt.

Regret

"Melancholy" (1891), by Edvard Munch

Love is so short, forgetting is so long. Pablo Neruda

It took me less than half a lifetime to realize that regret is one of the few guaranteed certainties. Sooner or later everything is touched by it, despite our naive and sensless hope that just this time we will be spared its cold hand on our heart. Jonathan Carroll

Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable. Sydney Smith

If only. Those must be the two saddest words in the world. Mercedes Lackey

Accept life, and you must accept regret. Henri Frederic Amiel

To regret deeply is to live afresh. Henry David Thoreau

My one regret in life is that I am not someone else. Woody Allen

Only connect...

The first time I found a home in literature was when I read E. M. Forster's "Howard's End" in 1992. In this work, I discovered a link to eternal truths that I did not know existed. Here was a writer that could be all at once humorous ("... he had no guiding principle beyond a certain preference for mediocrity"), cutting ("The more people one knows, the easier it becomes to replace them"), practical ("Money is the fruit of self-denial") and profound ("Death destroys a man, but the idea of death saves him... Squalor and tragedy can beckon to all that is great in us"). I was completely undone by the complex beauty of his poetic prose, and the essential clarity of his thought. It may have taken me three months or more to crawl through the 250 page novel - my original copy is overwhelmed by yellow highlights and margin notes - as I contemplated every single word, but the experience of reading this book was transformational. Here are two of the better known passages:

"... she might yet be able to help him to the building of the rainbow bridge that should connect the prose in us with the passion. Without it, we are meaningless fragments, half monks, half beasts, unconnected arches that have never joined into a man. With it, love is born, and alights on the highest curve, glowing against the grey, sober against the fire. Happy the man who sees from either aspect the glory of these outspread wings. The roads of his soul lie clear, and he and his friends shall find easy going... It did not seem so difficult. She need trouble him with no gift of her own. She would only point out the salvation that was latent in his own soul, and the soul of every man. Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Only connect, and the beast and the monk, robbed of the isolation that is life to either, will die."

"The business man who assumes that this life is everything, and the mystic who asserts that it is nothing, fail, on this side and that, to hit the truth. "Yes, I see, dear; it's about halfway between," Aunt Juley had hazarded in earlier years. No; truth, being alive, was not halfway between anything. It was only to be found by continuous excursions into either realm, and though proportion is the final secret, to espouse it at the outset is to ensure sterility."

Beer

A dear friend of mine concludes her story about how she came to realize and accept her attraction to other women by pointing out that this occurred long after her graduation from an all-girl's school. Or, as she puts it: "What a waste."

I feel that way about beer.

In this spirit, I quote the immortal words of Homer Simpson, who once said,

"I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and my homosexuals flaming."

I went to a college at which beer was literally cheaper than water. In fact, William Faulkner wrote that,

"At Harvard they teach you how to go for a swim at night without knowing how to swim, and at Sewanee they don't even teach you what water is."

... but I didn't like beer. In the years after school, many of my closest friends tried their best to intervene on the side of beer (I was a cider, bourbon and wine drinker - no, not at the same time), but I still couldn't make my mouth cross over. For reasons lost to the ages, I never tried to develop a taste for beer until the summer of 2006, at which time I undertook a very intentional training exercise in Bali, Indonesia. Over the duration of that trip, I had one beer a day for several weeks (well, it was one beer a day until the idea caught on, and then it was... more than one) and came home with the love. Now, I get it. At present, my beers of choice are Blue Moon, Bass, Harp, and many of the Mexican beers. Certainly, there are dangers to this love affair, but I mourn all those wasted years...

Edward Hopper in DC

"Room in New York" (1932), by Edward Hopper

The National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, is hosting an exhibition of Edward Hopper's work until January 21, 2008. This collection contains my favorite Hopper painting.

This past Thursday, I was able to sneak into the exhibit with only 35 minutes before the museum closed. (It's unjust that the National Gallery closes at 5 in the afternoon, the exact time that many taxpayers get off work, but I digress further.) Because of the late hour, I was unable to hear the audio tour, nor watch the overview video, which is narrated by Steve Martin. No matter. It was still the most extraordinary 35 minutes I've spent in many weeks - some thrilling combination of sensuality and wonder. I will be going back as soon as I can.

The Flying Karamazov Brothers

I began to love juggling as I watched Steve Russell perform twice a week (for sixteen weeks) when I worked for American Hawaii Cruises. It wasn't long before I found myself drawn to The Flying Karamazov Brothers, a truly amazing group of entertainers / jugglers. If you have an opportunity to see them perform, take it. They will be in Atlanta in January.

William Henry Channing

"To live content with small means;
to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion;
to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich;
to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart;
to study hard;
to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never;
in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common
-- this is my symphony."

Painting: Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World", 1948.

Adventure Cycling

I took up road cycling about three years ago when I lived in Annapolis and have loved every minute of it. I don't think I'm any happier than when I am on my bike and heading out on a long ride (here in Atlanta, that's usually on the Silver Comet Trail). One of my life's goals is to cycle across the United States, and when I pull it off, it will be because of the good folks at Adventure Cycling. I have been a member of Adventure Cycling since I bought my current bike, and have found their website and publications to be first rate. I'm afraid that now the weather is such that I won't be riding outdoors anymore this year, but I do have a set of rollers that keep me ready to hit the road (and scared to death of falling off).

Leo Kottke

Leo Kottke is the first guitarist I ever cared about. His impact on the genre of acoustic guitar since his debut "Armadillo" album in 1969 (actually titled "6 and 12 String Guitar") can not be underestimated. Often referred to as "a guitar player's guitarist", Kottke's playing has to be seen to be believed (otherwise, you might presume you are listening to more than one musician). This particular video, as I understand it from the original YouTube posting, is from German television in the 1970s. It's worth every second of the 5:51 running time, as it builds and builds until your mind pops. Here is a link to another video (one of poor quality) that will give you a good idea of what it's like to see him in concert.