Tag: art

Pi Day

Subtle subversion

I went to a High School Show Choir show the other day. The highlight was a top Show Choir doing a star-spangled show with red, white and blue, flouncy red and white skirts, high energy, a made-in-America ballad (Aaron Copland, The Promise of Living), and other familiar pieces like Can’t tell a book by looking at the cover and America (from West Side Story)

The even had a Tejano-looking horn line, complete with black cowboy hats, adding a Mariachi flavor to one interlude in the singing.

All in all, it was a show that celebrated diverse America, subtly pushing back against … oh, just about anyone who fancies that Real America is white and European.

That’s the kind of resistance that’s hard for tyrants to crush.

Attacking the First Amendment

The bleeding-heart RINO communists at the Wall Street Journal investigated one particular aspect of immigration enforcement: the handling of peaceful protesters:

  • Out of 279 people accused of attacking federal officers on social media over the past year, 181 were U.S. citizens.
  • Nearly half of these Americans were never formally charged, and none have been convicted at trial.
  • Many faced public doxxing—release of personal information such as addresses and photos—leading to death threats.
  • Some bore financial burdens from bail, legal fees, and lost workdays defending themselves.

It’s impossible to keep up with all the outrages. Kudos to Brenna T. Smith, Hannah Critchfield, Brian Whitton, Belle Cushing and Emma Scott of the WSJ for trying.

Writing

Writing is a precarious profession. We are broke, for the most part. We work jobs we often don’t enjoy to keep the lights on: Faulkner at the post office, Vonnegut and his disastrous car dealership, every writer you know and their faculty gig. The average author doesn’t make enough from their royalties to clear the poverty line. Most books don’t even make back their advance, meaning they earn no royalties for the author at all. When Anna Burns won the Booker Prize, she thanked her food bank. Our work is stolen to train the software of multibillion-dollar artificial intelligence companies run by people who believe art is a problem to be solved.

Omar El Akkad, One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This

Shorts

  • Against the “flood the zone” strategy of misinformation that the current administration seems to favor, lawyers and judges, bound by legal, professional and social obligations to work in a reality-based world, can function as a critical levee. (Deborah Pearlstein, The Justice Department Wants to Make It Safe for Government Lawyers to Lie – shared link.)
  • [Self-identified Secretary of War Pete] Hegseth says that in order to win wars like the one now being waged in Iran, “our warriors deserve legal teams as lethal and focused as they are,” though he does not elaborate on what a lethal legal team might look like. (Sarah Fitzpatrick and Missy Ryan, The Pentagon’s Lawyers Are Now Under Review)
  • “The only thing prohibiting transit in the straits (sic) right now is Iran shooting at shipping. It is open for transit should Iran not do that.” (Mr. Obvious nominee Pete “Big Hair” Hegseth)
  • “I’m not worried. I do whatever the f**k I want. DJT will pardon me,” – Corey Lewandowski.
  • We know not through our intellect, but through our experience. (Maurice Merleau-Ponty via Economist)

Elsewhere in Tipsyworld

I confess, however, that I am not myself very much concerned with the question of influence, or with those publicists who have impressed their names upon the public by catching the morning tide and rowing very fast in the direction in which the current was flowing; but rather that there should always be a few writers preoccupied in penetrating to the core of the matter, in trying to arrive at the truth and to set it forth, without too much hope, without ambition to alter the immediate course of affairs, and without being downcast or defeated when nothing appears to ensue.

T.S. Eliot

I don’t do any of the major social media, but I have two sub-domains of the domain you’re currently reading: (a) You can read most of my reflexive stuff, especially political here. (b) I also post some things on my favorite no-algorithm social medium.

The Sacred Veil

I was listening this afternoon to a choral composition by Eric Whitacre, who probably came onto my radar with this a few years ago.

The unfamiliar composition was playing softly, and I was multi-tasking, paying little heed to the words (though a few caught my attention a bit).

Then suddenly I heard something that jolted me. I’d never heard a chorus do anything like that before, and no wonder: it sounded unbelievably difficult.

It was in a setting of this short poem:

Listening to your labored breath,
Your struggle ends as mine begins.
You rise; I fall.

Fading, yet already gone;
What calls you I cannot provide.
You rise; I fall.

Broken, with a heavy hand
I reach to you, and close your eyes.
You rise; I fall.

The piece is titled You Rise, I Fall, and it’s part of the larger piece The Sacred Veil, Whitacre’s setting of a poem by Charles Anthony Silvestri. The poet describes it:

This work features a series of poems written about my relationship with my late wife Julie, her battle with ovarian cancer, and the grief I experienced as a result of her passing in 2005. This is the most intensely personal poetry I have ever written, and it evoked exquisite and heart-breaking music from composer Eric Whitacre.

If you’ve never heard it, do yourself a favor and ferret it out somewhere, somehow. I heard it recorded by the Los Angeles Master Chorale.

But keep the Kleenex handy.

So walk on air against your better judgement

(Seamus Heaney)

You can read most of my more impromptu stuff here (cathartic venting) and here (the only social medium I frequent, because people there are quirky, pleasant and real). Both should work in your RSS aggregator, like Feedly or Reeder, should you want to make a habit of it.

Twiblings

As if on cue, an example of today’s version of satanic banality. I’m really sticking my neck out on this, but here goes.

But first, remember the conclusion to my latest blog when you parse “satanic”:

The man who approaches Paradise Lost expecting to find the same Satan venerated by Scandinavian black metal bands and Anton LaVey will turn the final page of the poem and suffer sore disappointment. Milton’s Satan never kills anyone, neither does he rape, steal, or utter vulgarities. He does not kidnap children, establish cults, teach magic, participate in Halloween, or teach teenagers to play Led Zeppelin records backwards. He is not even terribly interested in conning others into such foul activities. Rather, one could triangulate the personality of Milton’s Satan using just three figures from popular culture: singer Katy Perry, fictional boss Michael Scott, and motivational speaker Tony Robbins.

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I have no reason to think that Dr. Robert Luo or George Arison rape, steal, utter vulgarities, kidnap children, establish cults, teach magic, participate in Halloween, or teach teenagers to play Led Zeppelin records backwards. They’re just in love, and love is love, and they’re living the American dream. They’re just so gosh-durn normal (in a way that only gay couples with $300,000 to spare can be) that “‘We got pregnant before we were married …,’ Dr. Luo said.”

Scratching your head about that? Wondering if one of these men might be suspected of being a woman?

Nay, nay! It’s just that before they enjoyed their first-world destination wedding in Bora Bora and their legal-positivist union at San Francisco City Hall, they enjoyed the WEIRD perk of “engineering” a family.

Yes, there are two buns in hired ovens.

Their story is a veritable rats-nest of ARTsy deathworks, howsoever winsome and seductive.

Yes, I’ll admit it’s winsome and seductive (maybe I should be viscerally repulsed, but I’m not). Still:

  • They’re not really married. (I say that as someone who thinks he knows what marriage is, and this isn’t it.)
  • Their pseudo-marriage is inherently infertile.
  • They’re “commodifying” wombs to bear children that would be the product of high-tech, white-smock adultery (There! I said it!) if only they were really married.
  • They revel in all this and engineer their way into the fawning New York Times Weddings section.
  • Society apparently has already coined a term for children like the boy and the girl currently being gestated by the women they’ve commodified: “twiblings.”

So am I saying these two guys are evil all the way down?

Not at all — if only because then I’d have to think the same sort of thing about personal friends of mine who are, variously, gay, or who are in “same-sex marriages,” or who have resorted to questionable reproductive technologies in the face of infertility.

Indeed, I’d like to think that, even if I didn’t have such friends, I could (1) remember that I’m not the ultimate judge and (2) take an empathetic trip along the imaginative path from a prototypical fecund conjugal marriage to the surrogacy simulacrum thereof in a rich gay couple “getting pregnant.”

For instance, their respective desires for the quasi-normalcy of children made them pariahs in the gay dating scene until they found each other. There’s the seed of something good there.

The Church has been too reticent about addressing these issues. The ethical principles are not right there on the surface, in the classical forms of decalogue sins.

And it wouldn’t necessarily dissuade anyone if the church did address them, as the sexual revolution is a juggernaut, and there’s nobody here but “consenting adults. Mr. Arison is ethnically Georgian, yet dismisses the Georgian (Orthodox) Church as “espous[ing] homophobia.” He’s living according to his own principles, and we have fashioned a world to “enable” him and his boyfriend — or we’d call if “enabling” if this wasn’t all so fashionable.

As it is, I’m oddly grateful for the obscurity of this blog, and understandably grateful that I have no job anyone can take from me. I doubtless have unpersoned some certified victim groups by this paroxysm of phobias.

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You can read my more impromptu stuff at Micro.blog (mirrored at microblog.intellectualoid.com) and, as of February 20, 2019, at blot.im. Both should work in your RSS aggregator, like Feedly, should you want to make a habit of it.