Spring

  -Edna St. Vincent Millay

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.



Note:
First read this in eighth grade.

about how everyone is so nice

When you move somewhere new, you might find a lot of the people there are nice. This is because you are more likely to ask people for help and information and, naturally, they oblige best they can. Where you're from, you rarely had to ask people for help because you knew the area, the weather patterns and expectations, the laws and ordinances, and so on. So people there were just people you had to share the city with. Your new neighbors are people you try to get along with.

about 2012 films: I see black people

At the Oscars, Daniel Day-Lewis won Best Actor.

Both the films "Lincoln" and "Django Unchained" concern African American slavery in the US--an issue that in ways big and small plagues the US still. But "Lincoln" portrays and conveys black people differently--I think with a greater truth, the kind of truth only realized in art.

How so?

"Lincoln" doesn't have any main black characters. It has hardly any black people at all. Sure, it's about that President at a specific moment, and not about slaves. But what and who is Lincoln? Why do we honor him today? States' rights were at stake, but the civil war was fought over slavery, and that is Lincoln's legacy.

All during the film, black people are peripheral, somewhere on the edges, rarely seen, rarely on screen. And aside from gentle scenes of dialog at the beginning and end of the film, they are never confronted. Their captivity and freedom is debated with a little input from those most affected.

But though they are invisible, black Americans are everywhere in the themes and culture and gravity of the moments being enacted. They are the thing referred to but never spoken of; they are exchangeed but never valued. They are marginalized in the film, reflecting their existence in America, and the racially collective experience of their existence here for some time.


Notes:
* The only other film I saw is "Flight".


(Also, the President now is black.)

about "Knockmestiff" by Donald Ray Pollock

Now abandoned according to Wikipedia, Knockemstiff is the name of the small Ohio town where Donald Ray Pollock grew up. As he did with his subsequent book, The Devil All the Time, Pollock uses the area as the setting for a string of stories depicting a special kind of depravity considered unique to Appalachian parts steeped in extreme poverty. But whereas religion was a common theme in The Devil All the Time, here, drugs fuel and, alternately, dull much of the pain. Another difference is that The Devil All the Time is a more traditional novel, while Knockmestiff is a collection of shorts with very loose connections but no collective arc.

Pollock's favorite word is "rotten", and this repeated word choice attests to his laser focus on depravity. While this focus has to date permeated and made visceral his clear, true-to-life prose, I wonder now if he can tell a story outside a thoroughly rotted town. As a reader, Knockmestiff isn't necessarily the kind of place you want to come visit again and again. And again.


Note:

• In his dedication at the end of the Knockmestiff, Pollock apologizes for running down the town so thoroughly, and stresses that people there are generous and not monsters.

Make sure you hear the national anthem.

“When you're good at something, you'll tell everyone. When you're great at something, they'll tell you.”
    ―Walter Payton

(coming from behind in the Super Bowl)

Michael Jordan might be a jerk and competitive to a fault, but the man knows greatness, and he knows how time distorts the collective memory of greatness. Here is a wonderful excerpt from a new ESPN "Outside the Lines" profile of professional basketball's greatest ever at age 50:

Over the next seven hours, all of it spent watching one basketball game after another, he's (Jordan) again pulled inward, on a Tilt-a-Whirl of emotion, mostly shades of anger, from active screaming to a slow, silent burn. He transforms from a businessman returning from the office -- Honey, I'm home! -- to a man on fire. The first sparks come from a "SportsCenter" debate, one of those impossible, vaguely ridiculous arguments that can, of course, never be won: Who's a better quarterback, Joe Montana or Tom Brady?

"I can't wait to hear this conversation," he says.

He stretches his legs out on the ottoman, wearing sweats and socks, and as one of the guys on television argues for Brady, Jordan laughs.

"They're gonna say Brady because they don't remember Montana," he says. "Isn't that amazing?"

Aging means losing things, and not just eyesight and flexibility. It means watching the accomplishments of your youth be diminished, maybe in your own eyes through perspective, maybe in the eyes of others through cultural amnesia. Most people live anonymous lives, and when they grow old and die, any record of their existence is blown away. They're forgotten, some more slowly than others, but eventually it happens to virtually everyone. Yet for the few people in each generation who reach the very pinnacle of fame and achievement, a mirage flickers: immortality. They come to believe in it. Even after Jordan is gone, he knows people will remember him. Here lies the greatest basketball player of all time. That's his epitaph. When he walked off the court for the last time, he must have believed that nothing could ever diminish what he'd done. That knowledge would be his shield against aging.

There's a fable about returning Roman generals who rode in victory parades through the streets of the capital; a slave stood behind them, whispering in their ears, "All glory is fleeting." Nobody does that for professional athletes. Jordan couldn't have known that the closest he'd get to immortality was during that final walk off the court, the one symbolically preserved in the print in his office. All that can happen in the days and years that follow is for the shining monument he built to be chipped away, eroded. Maybe he realizes that now. Maybe he doesn't. But when he sees Joe Montana joined on the mountaintop by the next generation, he has to realize that someday his picture will be on a screen next to LeBron James as people argue about who was better.

The debaters announce the results of an Internet poll, and 925,000 people voted. There was a tie: 50 percent said Montana and 50 percent said Brady. It doesn't matter that Montana never lost a Super Bowl or that, unlike Brady, he never faded on the biggest stage. Questions of legacy, of greatness, are weighted in favor of youth. Time itself is on Brady's side, for now.

Jordan shakes his head.

"That doesn't make any sense," he says.

That's good writing, and a compelling anecdote, considering it's about a guy sitting, watching TV. And what it says is so Goddamn true.


Notes:

Speaking of basketball and greatness, as the annual stupid NBA All-Star game approaches, let's remember the only rendition of the national anthem that ever mattered: Marvin Gaye at the 1983 game:

about the State of the Union address, 12 February 2013

Fervent Obama critics cast him as, among other things, un-American for transforming the country into something it has never been and was never meant to be. If he was that, he would be a revolutionary. Of all the policies and ideas he has articulated, somehow his State of the Union invocation of citizenship sounded unprecedented, like little else I've heard from Washington for at least the last 25 years. The concept of citizenship he speaks of goes beyond one's residence in a country; it is the duties and responsibilities that come with being a member of a community.

No, in these addresses we are usually referred to as taxpayers, consumers, or, simply (and vaguely) Americans.

Obama called out our citizenship as an argument for the big Federal socio-economic policies of a social democracy. Here is the key relevant excerpt from his State of the Union address, delivered 12 February 2013:

We may do different jobs, and wear different uniforms, and hold different views than the person beside us. But as Americans, we all share the same proud title:

We are citizens. It’s a word that doesn’t just describe our nationality or legal status. It describes the way we’re made. It describes what we believe. It captures the enduring idea that this country only works when we accept certain obligations to one another and to future generations; that our rights are wrapped up in the rights of others; and that well into our third century as a nation, it remains the task of us all, as citizens of these United States, to be the authors of the next great chapter in our American story.

Notes:
The above quote came at the conclusion of Obama's argument for more restrictive gun control laws, and at the conclusion to his entire address. Many pundits complimented the gun control-related content of his speech--here it is:

... Overwhelming majorities of Americans – Americans who believe in the 2nd Amendment – have come together around commonsense reform – like background checks that will make it harder for criminals to get their hands on a gun. Senators of both parties are working together on tough new laws to prevent anyone from buying guns for resale to criminals. Police chiefs are asking our help to get weapons of war and massive ammunition magazines off our streets, because they are tired of being outgunned.

Each of these proposals deserves a vote in Congress. If you want to vote no, that’s your choice. But these proposals deserve a vote ...

One of those we lost was a young girl named Hadiya Pendleton. She was 15 years old. She loved Fig Newtons and lip gloss ...

Hadiya’s parents, Nate and Cleo, are in this chamber tonight, along with more than two dozen Americans whose lives have been torn apart by gun violence. They deserve a vote.

Gabby Giffords deserves a vote.

The families of Newtown deserve a vote.

The families of Aurora deserve a vote.

The families of Oak Creek, and Tucson, and Blacksburg, and the countless other communities ripped open by gun violence – they deserve a simple vote.

Warfighter

Warfighter. What does it mean? Who is a warfighter? What is a warfighter?

Circa WWII America, people often spoke of soldiers with admiration, depicting competent men of bravery, or, alternately, innocent sons away in foreign lands. Then, during early 1990's military campaigns in the Persian Gulf, speakers urged the public to "Support our troops". Now, the US Department of Defense introduced into use the term warfighter.

Using the term warfighter shifts the emphasis from the soldier's service to his time in combat. So a veteran is not a warfighter; a soldier is not necessarily a warfighter; and a warfighter is not necessarily a soldier from one of the branches of the US armed forces.

Soldiers have already become somewhat ubiquitous--we see them honored routinely on television and at sporting and political events. Finding yourself in public in the presence of a soldier in uniform is not unusual. Using the term warfighter takes that a step further; it normalizes the condition of war. If a soldier (or contractor) is overseas, he is at war. His presence is war. He is present in war. He is war.



 

"Islands" by The XX

how they missed Joe

Note:
But Frank Gore did throw the awesomest stiff-arm:

sometimes, but today here's pictures

Her Anxiety

  - by W.B.Yeats

Earth in beauty dressed
Awaits returning spring.
All true love must die,
Alter at the best
Into some lesser thing. 
Prove that I lie.

Such body lovers have,
Such exacting breath,
That they touch or sigh.
Every touch they give,
Love is nearer death. 
Prove that I lie.

to say it's nothing, really

Clouds tumbled overhead, an ash avalanche, a silent disaster film, while she, the money-counter, stationed herself bedside, gazing upon the ones, fives, tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds arranged on the comforter, catching dull the morning light like eyes of dead children arranged before the killer. Her husband made noise in the kitchen: microwave beeping, plates knocking. She knew he hungered always for her fear and submission, but tomorrow she would serve him his death. She will pay the hitman tonight.

49ers in the Super Bowl

about "Open" by Andre Agassi

When it was released, this autobiography by American tennis player Andre Agassi was scandalous for the insulated world of professional tennis--a sport in which cussing umpires is a serious offense. The scandal was that Agassi confesses to experimenting with meth, a hard amphetamine, during his pro career. Truth is he did it twice, mostly out of boredom on the spur of the moment. And while high, all he really did was clean his house. So controversy is not the real story--that's the advertising.

The real story is that Agassi, like most other tennis pros, was mercilessly raised to succeed in professional tennis. His father drilled him on a home court everyday for years. Forever after Agassi resented his father and hated tennis. Nevertheless the experience left Agassi super-competitive and as he came of age he desperately wanted the coveted rankings of more consistent players in his era like Pete Sampras, his main rival. Unsurprisingly, Agassi traces his own inconsistent performance (more than once he fell from the top to the bottom) to his lack of confidence and poor sense of self. But these flaws, though nearly universal in their appeal, are never fully explored in Open.

The book's gossipy nuggets are these: Agassi hated Jim Courier until retirement (now they're friends); he never liked Michael Chang, chafing at the way Chang repeatedly thanked God every time he won; he declares Jimmy Conners a major irredeemable asshole (a judgement corroborated by many others); and he thinks Sampras, his career-long rival, is robotic, focused solely on tennis to the exclusion of all else. Ironically, Agassi's first wife, Christie Brinkley, seems to think the same of Agassi--that he's guilty of tennis tunnel-vision. Agassi doesn't seem to notice this irony. Ultimately the high-profile couple separated because they had nothing in common and each of them was focused on their respective careers.

This was a fine book, a good tour through a tennis life, but Agassi's Open is further evidence that autobiographies by musicians and, more so, athletes, are often boring. These gifted people have a hyper-focused passion and goal--to be the best, and they rarely put in the time and get the perspective needed to examine and expand their story into an insightful dialectic ready for the bookshelves.

"Society Must Be Defended", lectures by Michel Foucault

(longer post)

I've been reading this Michel Foucault lecture series. In them, he reminds the audience that his concept of power has changed since he debuted with his seminal works on madness and punishment. He sees power not so much as represented in instances of repression, but rather a flow or current between actors, a concept better represented as two actors engaged in battle. In Society Must Be Defended, Foucault explores the concept of war and its historical relation to the role of the nation state and its population's identity.

That Foucault adopts a new concept of power after having written his early works does not devalue them. Foucault's project has not changed: generally, he engages in an archaeological exploration of Western man's conceptual relation to himself and others; specifically, he analyzes how some people engineer and/or assume apparatuses of power used on other people, focusing on the post-Middle Ages emergence of kinds of knowledge and systems of disciplinary power.

In Society Must Be Defended, he begins by asserting that, circa 1600, Europeans began assessing their own history in terms of race and war, whereas previously they self-identified in the person and bloodline of the sovereign and spoke of the Roman history in which they lived. So, what were once mere hiccups within the Roman Empire now signified the coming of the Franks, Gauls, Celts, and so on. The key for Foucault here is not the races or inter-European racism to come, but the idea of (potential) revolution and the political historization of the peopled nation state that emerges and casts itself as the rightful inheritor of sovereignty and greatness, with the distressed and disenfranchised newly identifying themselves as people on the losing end of a historical injustice.

The change in historical perspective is initiated by a shift at the top: the nobility assume power over the education of the monarchy, a role previously held by judges and (accounting) clerks appointed by the sovereign. This education, which centers on history, organizes the past--and, therefore, the present--around "society" rather than royal lineages. And, so it goes, with the nation no longer identified in the body of the king, a new focus on society yields limited concepts of nationalism, race, and class. Of course, society was being narrowly defined around the culture of the previously distressed and disenfranchised nobles (the bourgeoisie, presumably).

Then, yet another shift occurs: a culture with arts, agriculture, trade, and industry becomes a precondition for nationhood. A nation's legitimization is complete once it has a legislature and law. Society no longer just constitutes the nation--it runs it (or, rather, the bourgeoisie runs it, presumably). Finally, with the recognition of society as the bellwether of the nation state, we find institutions of power concerning themselves with the biological phenomena of the social body, thereby giving birth to what Foucault famously calls biopower. Very nice.

In Society Must Be Defended, Foucault gives a history of Western Europe, recounting legends told from the Middle Ages on and narrating this shift in discourses on power, history, and the State. This narration does get bogged down in details (and more than a little confused), so this lecture series is a difficult read unless you're especially interested.

Notes:

• This shift to a politicized historical discourse coincides with a larger movement re-organizing and, eventually, licensing knowledges.

• Foucault's work usually involves describing some major shift in focus and narrative that followed the Middle Ages. When reading him, I'm often a little disappointed he doesn't spend more time describing the systems being displaced or forgotten. And, as a rule, I'm always a little skeptical when someone argues that something major has changed or some new age is dawning, etc., so this can make Foucault's work hard to square when I find myself needing more information.

I know a seagull

I know a seagull. He watches me uncaringly. Sometimes when he flies the sky warms from a restless midnight ink to a delicate warm peach speckled heaven blue. He is overhead now. Hello again, Seagull.

I see only his silhouette. He sees me old, yellow papery skin against starched, white hospital sheets, brain turning watery, back aching. He sees me standing atop the neighbor's woodpile, dressed in Superman pajamas, hands on hips and chest puffed out. Seagull and I, we are lifetime companions now.

about "Society Must Be Defended", lectures by Michel Foucault

I've been reading this Michel Foucault lecture series. In them, he reminds the audience that his concept of power has changed since he debuted with his seminal works on madness and punishment. Now he sees power not so much as represented in instances of repression, but rather as a flow or current between actors, a concept better represented as two actors engaged in battle. In Society Must Be Defended, Foucault explores this concept of battle, of war and its historical relation to the role of the nation State and its population's identity.

That Foucault adopts a new concept of power after having written his early works does not devalue them. Foucault's project has not changed: generally, he engages in an archaeological exploration of Western man's relation to himself; specifically, he analyzes how some people engineer and/or assume apparatuses of power used on other people.

The soap opera continues, has only just begun

Last night Dallas Morning News staff photographer Michael Ainsworth captured an anguished Tony Romo pacing the sideline after throwing an interception. This picture is brilliant. Not only does it speak volumes about one man and his pain and feelings of inferiority, but it emphasizes the wonderful drama of sports. The action and athleticism are great but they're icing on the cake. The collective and personal drama is what keeps fans coming back for more, even after their team blows it on the big stage (yet again). The struggle, the triumph, and, here, the tragedy.

Look closely at this picture. That is a tortured look on his face.


Notes:

• Faith: You don't believe in a proven quarterback--you rely on him; so it is only now that I know he felt loss so acutely, knows loss so intimately, that I can believe in Tony Romo. The team will be worse next year, looks like. But, nevertheless.

about a Snickers, in five bites

I see before me a man who wants to enjoy his Snickers bar. He is very different from the man I saw before me earlier, who set himself in the airport chair by gate 25 to eat a whole sleeve of Oreo cookies. No, this Snickers man takes just two bites of his candy bar before takeoff; the next two bites will power him through the airport, and what the last bite is for only this slender man so efficiently built knows.

Obama's speech at the service in Newtown

The President's December 16, 2012, address in Newtown is one of the more compelling, well-written editions of recent Obama speeches, which is pretty weird considering it argues for a policy he doesn't totally agree with, on an issue he doesn't care much about.

First Obama obligatorily memorializes the occasion by redescribing the tragic events and the redeeming moments within them. Then he says,

We can’t tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change.

This change he refers to is a fundamental one concerning our culture and its relation to guns, individualism, and violence--something not easily changed. So how does a President / lawyer / legislator start us on the road towards such a change? Through legislation:

We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law, no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society, but that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely we can do better than this.

The kind of legislation he has in mind, gun control, was not previously on his agenda, so to him it isn't the most appealing option, and he seems to doubt that it will even be all that effective; but he sees it as a means, the most obvious place to begin effecting a cultural change immediately:

If there’s even one step we can take to save another child or another parent or another town from the grief that’s visited Tucson and Aurora and Oak Creek and Newtown and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that, then surely we have an obligation to try.

... We know that, no matter how good our intentions, we’ll all stumble sometimes in some way.

We’ll make mistakes, we’ll experience hardships and even when we’re trying to do the right thing, we know that much of our time will be spent groping through the darkness, so often unable to discern God’s heavenly plans.

There you have it: although it may not work as intended, new gun control legislation is something he thinks he can start on now, but he hopes other, better options will be revealed in the days ahead. Of course, though he's not the first, last, or only person to ever float such a message, Obama's talk of cultural change fuels his many detractors, those Conservatives whose ideological allegiance grows with their sense that policies traditionally deemed Liberal are now destroying their way of life.


Notes:

• It does seem strange that he would be arguing policy at a memorial service.

• My favorite part of this is far and away the following:

You know, someone once described the joy and anxiety of parenthood as the equivalent of having your heart outside of your body all the time, walking around.

With their very first cry, this most precious, vital part of ourselves, our child, is suddenly exposed to the world, to possible mishap or malice, and every parent knows there’s nothing we will not do to shield our children from harm. And yet we also know that with that child’s very first step and each step after that, they are separating from us, that we won’t -- that we can’t always be there for them.

They will suffer sickness and setbacks and broken hearts and disappointments, and we learn that our most important job is to give them what they need to become self-reliant and capable and resilient, ready to face the world without fear.