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.