Hopeful Road Map

Cello Player

Cello Player.

“But a hopeful road map to humanism’s recovery might include variations on those older themes. First, a return of serious academic interest in the possible (I would say likely) truth of religious claims. Second, a regained sense of history as a repository of wisdom and example rather than just a litany of crimes and wrongthink. Finally, a cultural recoil from the tyranny of the digital and the virtual and the Very Online, today’s version of the technocratic, technological, potentially totalitarian Machine that Jacobs’s Christian humanists opposed.

“Auden’s poem closes with comic (but not really) advice for humanists: Thou shalt not sit/ With statisticians nor commit / A social science … Thou shalt not be on friendly terms / With guys in advertising firms … If thou must choose / Between the chances, choose the odd; / Read The New Yorker, trust in God …”
(Ross Douthat, “Oh, the Humanities!” NYTimes, 8-8-2018)

[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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Wikipediaphilia

It’s a boon to have fingertip access to all knowledge. I can quote from the Critique of Pure Reason hands down. But many times another person pivots continually to smart phone in order to referee a fact fight during just a conversation.

I’m increasingly happy to luxuriate in ignorance. A really fine strand of thought isn’t necessarily advanced by going granular on specifics.

“In Praise of Dreams” by Jan Garbarek, the Norwegian saxophonist, features a piece called “Cloud of Unknowing.”

The phrase “cloud of unknowing” has a bracing resonance. Unknowing isn’t the same as ignorance. A cloud of it contrasts with, say, a “cloud of indifference.”

Perhaps the two clouds pit fecund uncertainty against incurious certitude. Perhaps one is conciliating, the other pugilistic. Perhaps one fosters circumspection, the other opprobrium.

Perhaps I Googled “origin of universe” and the search god returned “not found” from the stomping grounds of unknowing. But perhaps it returned an Okefenokee of conviction from where doubt goes to die.

[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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With This Facebook Like, I Hereby Acknowledge That You Got Married | The New Yorker

Jeremiah Budin offers a humorous explanation of why wedding photos get so many Facebook likes.
— Read on www.newyorker.com/humor/daily-shouts/with-this-facebook-like-i-hereby-acknowledge-that-you-got-married

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From the Jargon Log: “negative treatment”

Francisco Gómez de Quevedo y Santibáñez Villegas, Juan van der Hamen, 17th century (Instituto Valencia de Don Juan)

Francisco Gómez de Quevedo y Santibáñez Villegas, Juan van der Hamen, 17th century (Instituto Valencia de Don Juan)

NYTimes, 8-6-18 — Under Israeli law, the prime minister alone is authorized to approve an assassination operation, euphemistically known as “negative treatment” within the Mossad.

[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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Dear Mother… As I’ve been traveling

Mother Pensive With Huge Glasses, JMN, photo. (C) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.

Mother Pensive With Huge Glasses, JMN, photo. (C) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.

As I’ve been traveling more, again, I’ve gotten so tired of seeing dead animals on the road. It’s begun to sicken me. Everywhere you go you see little carcasses and mauled remains. Some are not so little; I’ve seen several good sized dead dogs. The other day on the way to work I saw two dead cats on Rio Grande no more than 50 yards apart. It’s especially saddening to see baby animals, such as kittens, and to realize how terribly brief their existence was….

I was thinking these thoughts driving home from Devine Thursday morning, and was on a stretch of road between Pleasanton and Floresville that goes through the John Connally property called the San José Cattle Company. Flocks of birds were flying up off the road and I hit one. It produced a noticeable thump, and I cursed and thought how ironic. I stopped in Goliad for coffee and the poor thing was lodged in my grille. Of all the things you don’t expect to hit, it’s a bird.

Someone said at the office the other day that a scientist, as an experiment, recently placed a rubber turtle and a rubber snake on a road and recorded motorists’ behavior. Everyone tried to hit the snake, and 50% of the passersby tried to hit the turtle. I wonder what this reveals.
[Correspondence, 1987. Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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Dear Mother… I’m keeping

I’m keeping a fairly close record on my office computer of how I spend my time at work. I feel overworked in the sense that I’m letting myself be subjected to more demands than I can reasonably satisfy, as well as allowing my own ambition to be greater than I can achieve. The recording of projects scheduled, projects finished and unfinished, dates and time spent, and for whom the project was carried out is helping me bring this into focus. Late yesterday as I was looking at the record I experienced a moment of dejection over the growing mountain of February work still undone. I realized there were some programming projects to do, and that I hadn’t done any programming for about a month. Then I thought that perhaps I should jettison this particular capability from the bag of tricks that I’m expected to perform. Programming is something that you have to do all the time to do well. True programmers do little or nothing else but program. My personal ambition has been to master the art, but it brings me into conflict with the duties I perform from day to day to make money for the company and earn my pay. I expect to talk this over with Dan on Monday.

[Correspondence, 1987. Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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Tip of the Day

www.nytimes.com/2018/07/26/magazine/how-to-have-sex-in-a-canoe.html

“Three words: center of gravity….”

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The Gallego

The Gallego, or native of Galicia, is by nature very reserved. For example, if you meet a Gallego in the stairwell, you will not know whether he’s going up or going down.

[Copyright (c) James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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“Sock Hop Bop Flop”

Friday Night, JMN, photo.

Friday Night, JMN, photo.

Sock Hop Bop Flop
An Admonitory Fable for Tragedies Averted
(To all my students who made it through graduation)

Bee-Bop-A-Ree-Bop,
A lockdown jam,
A lockjawed ham,
Good golly, Miss Molly,
Lookin’ hot damn!

Bee-Bop-A-Ree-Bop,
A hounddog dude,
Blue suede shoe’d,
Sideburnt sugardaddy
Bawlin’ The Jude.

Bee-Bop-A-Ree-Bop,
A half-baked bean,
A boppin’ teen,
Cotton-eyed Joe
For a bullshit queen.*

Bee-Bop-A-Ree-Bop,
Haulin’ some ass,
Takin’ no sass,
Ten foot tall
And tokin’ the grass.

Bee-Bop-A-Ree-Bop,
A bang and a boom,
A six-foot room,
Shooby-dooby-doo,
Cool as a tomb.

*Note: A feature of the Cotton-eyed Joe dance step in Texas is a sort of conga line of men and women rhythmically shouting “Bullshit!”

[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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Poetaster

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Brancusi’s “Endless Column” By Mike Master – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0 ro, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21034498

More joy courtesy of Blake Gopnik, “In His Films, Brancusi Takes Flight,” NYTimes.

Given all the chestnuts in this show, the challenge is to see if we can still find a way to be astonished by them, as we were when they first appeared. In 2018, can Brancusi still release our inner poetaster?
[I’ve long known of the word “poetaster” and what it means, but I can’t recall having seen it used recently, especially in journalism. Indeed, as “one who writes inferior poetry” I stake claim to the title myself. Not having heard the word either, I note that in the handy online recording its pronunciation tracks the cadences of a phrase such as “pope disaster” or “poll forecaster” — four syllables with more presence of the ass-sounding part of the word than I would have thought. In my head I always said it in three syllables — POET-uh-str — diphthongizing -oe- and reducing the -a- to schwa.]

“Chestnut” is an old friend, too — “something that has been discussed or repeated ad nauseam.” It’s good to bump into this useful term. I knew a professor of English literature who quipped of a prolific rival in the field, “He lets a scholarly article every morning before breakfast.” I do that with chestnuts.

[Copyright (c) 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.]

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