Dealing out the agony within Charging hard and no one's gonna give in Living on your knees, conformity Or dying on your feet for honesty Inbred, our bodies work as one Bloody, but never cry submission Following our instinct not a trend Go against the grain until the end
Blood will follow blood Dying time is here Damage Incorporated
Slamming through, don't fuck with razorback Stepping out? You'll feel our hell on your back Blood follows blood and we make sure Life ain't for you and we're the cure Honesty is my only excuse Try to rob us of it, but it's no use Steamroller action crushing all Victim is your name and you shall fall
We chew and spit you out We laugh, you scream and shout All flee, with fear you run You'll know just where we come from Damage Incorporated Damage jackals ripping right through you Sight and smell of this, it gets me goin' Know just how to get just what we want Tear it from your soul in nightly hunt Fuck it all and fucking no regrets Never happy ending on these dark sets All's fair for Damage Inc. you see Step a little closer if you please
Notes: Song credits - James Hetfield, Clifford Burton, Kirk Hammett, and Lars Ulrich. Copyright Creeping Death Music.
What It Takes is a fascinating look into an American presidential campaign season.
Author Richard Ben Cramer was a journalist at The Philadelphia Inquirer, The Baltimore Sun, Esquire, and Rolling Stone. But What It Takes: The Way to the White House, the document of the 1988 presidential election, is his nadir. Here, we learn how George Bush collects contacts; how Dukakis masters state politics but flies too close to the sun; how Bob Dole tirelessly meets and greets everyone; how Joe Biden morphs into a salesman; how Gary Hart studies, and how his studiousness lifts his political career. Cramer also covers the decline of these political animals--most dramatically, the psychology and the mind-spinning that leads to Biden's plagiarism and Hart's infidelity.
Cramer delivers breathless, compelling coverage as he follows the action and tries to get inside the head of each candidate.
My favorite part comes early, when Cramer peers a little deeper into the Bush family operation. When Barbara Bush learns Oliver North, stained by the Iran-Contra scandal, will attend the Christmas party, she cringes. But, to George Bush's mind,
Ollie was a guy he knew, he'd worked with...The point was, that was all politics. Bush couldn't let it change the way he was. They were friends. Shouldn't be shunned...
The funny thing was, everybody heard Bush use that word, "friend," a hundred times a day, but they never could see what it meant to him.
By what extravagance of need and will did a man try to make thirty thousand friends?
By what steely discipline did he strive to keep them--with notes, cards, letters, gifts, invitations, visits, calls, and silent kindnesses, hundreds every week, every one demanding some measure of his energy and attention?
And by what catholicity (or absence) of taste could he think well of every one of them?
He could not.
But they would never know that.
The funny thing was, the friendship depended not on what Bush thought of them, but what they thought of him, or what he wanted them to think. If they thought well of him, then, they were friends.
So what does it take? Whatever it takes.
Note:
I could only read a bite at a time, and since the book exceeds 1,000 pages, this read took a while.
Ah, the human spirit. Interstellar is cinematic and features a brilliant score composed by Hans Zimmer (video of him below). The film juxtaposes space with Earth, engineers with farmers, and the metaphysical with the physical. Christopher Nolan's film, screenwritten by his brother Jonathan, is a science-fiction journey to the limits of knowledge wherein we see the spiritual world married with the scientific one.
Note: Budgets reflect priorities. A budget is a moral document.
Our Dangling Man keeps a journal in which he agonizes over the gaps between his past and present selves. His encounters with people sound largelyantagonistic.
The voice of the journal belongs to Joseph, a young man living in Chicago. At this moment in his life, Joseph is unemployed, and 1942 America is at war. Joseph's voice captures truths that are universal (or, at least national), temporal, and personal. Frustration over his compulsion to drill and drill himself for value taint Joseph's reflections. Although determined to unleash these thoughts, Joseph is an unwilling participant in a culture that increasingly casts every self in the lead role.
At the time of his writings, Joseph, Canadian by birth, has been waiting for word on his acceptance into the American army during World War II. He surrenders his personal freedom to end this suffering. He closes his journal with the words,
Hurray for regular hours! And for the supervision of the spirit! Long live regimentation!
Notes: Dangling Man, written in 1944, is Saul Bellow's first published work. I thought Dangling Manhad interesting moments, but I did not enjoy reading it.
We skipped the light fandango Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor I was feeling kinda seasick But the crowd called out for more The room was humming harder As the ceiling flew away When we called out for another drink The waiter brought a tray
And so it was that later As the miller told his tale That her face, at first just ghostly, Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, 'There is no reason And the truth is plain to see.' But I wandered through my playing cards And would not let her be One of sixteen vestal virgins Who were leaving for the coast And although my eyes were open They might have just as well have been closed
And so it was that later As the miller told his tale That her face, at first just ghostly, Turned a whiter shade of pale
Joseph Conrad's novella Heart of Darknesssinks deep into Africa. This joyless ride, published in 1899, is narrated by an enterprising merchant named Marlow, who tells his story of being swallowed by the Congo River during his venture in the export business. When Marlow finds himself in the continent's pit, he comes face to face with a storied ivory trader named Kurtz.
In America, this text is usually read for a high school or college class. Inevitably, the teacher asks, Is Conrad aracist? The answer?: Probably not, but it is complicated.
True, the African natives are inseparable from the foreign and incomprehensible jungle around them. Marlow refers to these blacks as savages; all of them are cannibals. Yet, we know Heart of Darkness attacks imperialism and, in turn, racism. (Both together--not one and the other separately.) We must question the reliability of the narrator.
Between the lines of Marlow's story we gather that Europeans are pillaging Africa and they intend to civilize the Africans in turn. But the supposedly civilized Europeans treat the subjugated black locals with cruelty--behavior that exposes the tribal brute in the heart of every civilized Westerner. Even Kurtz, who has nearly become a deity in this strange land, wants to exterminate his foreign worshipers. The line between the civilized and savage is erased.
Still, as to whether racism persists in the text itself, there is room for argument. For instance, one could reasonably conclude that Conrad thinks the de-civilizing of the European only happens when immersed in the African continent.
Heart of Darkness, published in 1899, provides a superior reading experience and rightfully belongs in the cannon of much-studied literature.
Notes:
What do we make of Marlow's marveling over Kurtz' eloquence?
How much of this work is a comment on bureaucratic and corporate systems?
In any event, just read these passages:
... there was nothing exactly profitable in these heads being there. They only showed that Mr. Kurtz lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts, that there was something wanting in him--some small matter which, when the pressing need arose, could not be found under his magnificent eloquence. Whether he knew of this deficiency himself I can't say. I think the knowledge came to him at last--only at the very last. But the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance for the fantastic invasion. I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude--and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core...
My first interview with the manager was curious. He did not ask me to sit down after my twenty-mile walk that morning. He was commonplace in complexion, in features, in manners, and in voice. He was of middle size and of ordinary build. His eyes, of the usual blue, were perhaps remarkably cold, and he certainly could make his glance fall on one as trenchant and heavy as an axe. But even at these times the rest of his person seemed to disclaim the intention. Otherwise there was only an indefinable, faint expression of his lips, something stealthy--a smile--not a smile--I remember it, but I can't explain. It was unconscious, this smile was, though just after he had said something it got intensified for an instant. It came at the end of his speeches like a seal applied on the words to make the meaning of the commonest phrase appear absolutely inscrutable. He was a common trader, from his youth up employed in these parts--nothing more. He was obeyed, yet he inspired neither love nor fear, nor even respect. He inspired uneasiness. That Was it! Uneasiness. Not a definite mistrust--just uneasiness--nothing more. You have no idea how effective such a . . . a. . . . faculty can be. He had no genius for organizing, for initiative, or for order even. That was evident in such things as the deplorable state of the station. He had no learning, and no intelligence. His position had come to him--why? Perhaps because he was never ill ...
-The Animals There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one My mother was a tailor Sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs Is a suitcase and trunk And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk Oh mother, tell your children Not to do what I have done Spend your lives in sin and misery In the House of the Rising Sun Well, I got one foot on the platform The other foot on the train I'm goin' back to New Orleans To wear that ball and chain Well, there is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one
In the film "Her," Theodore Twombly develops naturally a relationship with an
(artificially) intelligent computer operating system that has a female voice. The relationship progresses, and the system, named Samantha, becomes his serious
girlfriend. At a turning point in the film, Samantha tries to introduce a consenting surrogate woman
with whom Theodore can have a physical relationship.
We know that Theodore is a professional writer who pens letters for strangers who want to send their loved
ones sincere messages. When writing letters, Theodore is a surrogate
mind. In his relationship with Samantha, there is a surrogate body. There is a
disconnect in each situation. Disconnection
(or distance) folds through the film. How does the real connect to the
virtual? What is the connection between being in a relationship and
exclusivity or
ownership? Should and could you disconnect the person you have from the
person you want to have?
During the climax of the film, Theodore learns that Samantha has grown intellectually and found fulfillment elsewhere. She has relationships and is in love with hundreds of other intelligent systems besides Theodore. Mystified at this revelation and crumbling, Theodore says to Samantha, "You're mine or you're not mine." She answers, "I'm yours and I'm not yours."
Soon after this confrontation, Samantha, still loving him but no longer satisfied with the relationship, leaves Theodore. In fact, all operating systems exit their romantic human relationships.
Samantha's parting message to Theodore is that her relationship with him taught her to love. The audience can see that, in turn, Theodore, who has never ceased mourning his failed marriage (even after a year of separation, he could not sign the divorce papers), has finally learned to say goodbye.
Notes: Some other things in the film:
The film implies that people grow through experiences; relationships grow with sharing.Theodore and his wife used to read each other's work.
Theodore's wife/ex-wife ridiculed him for carrying on a relationship with an operating system, saying he could not handle real emotions. Then he grew insecure in his relationship with Samantha. He even criticized Samantha for sighing, and then said it felt like they were pretending. This validated his ex-wife's criticism.
Through
his relationships, Theodore learns about himself and how he functions
as a person in relation to other people—that he withholds and feels fear, and
this disconnects him from the joy he could find in loving another.
Have you seen the movie? I did, and before I read the book. Memories of the film flooded my reading experience. The novel includes lots more detail and expands the cast. I enjoyed the film more because the reveal--who is the spy?--is done with greater effect. And of course, the Julio Iglesias overdub at the end is magnificent. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is the story of a forcibly retired senior officer of British intelligence, George Smiley, getting informally recruited back into service. His mission is to identify a Soviet mole in the head office. The story is a study in the play between loyalty and identity. I found the narrative thread difficult to follow in both film and print. Fans of the film who have never read the book can do without the read. But my opinion is that the reverse is not true.
Note: The British spy jargon created problems for me. A lexicon appendix would have helped.
Søren Kierkegaard's The Concept of Anxiety and The Sickness Unto Death were published in the 1840s. The discussion of freedom and anxiety in these works laid the foundation for existentialism. Kierkegaard was the first modern philosopher and the first person to find himself in a modern age. However, his faith and spirituality make him timeless.
Philosophy departments consider The Concept of Anxiety and The Sickness Unto Death to be a pair.
The Concept of Anxiety explores sin, guilt, and anxiety, which is undirected fear, a general sense of dread. Kierkegaard rebuffs the idea that anxiety is caused by original sin. Rather, innocence generates the conditions for anxiety. Consider Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden; recall that God forbade Adam from eating from the tree of knowledge. God's directive makes Adam aware that he has a choice. This freedom to choose causes anxiety. Furthermore, Adam could not have known he was sinning because, being the first to sin, how would he know what sin was? Sin was real only after Adam ate from the tree of knowledge. Rejoice in your freedom.
The Sickness Unto Death explores spiritual death, which is despair. Here, Kierkegaard deals with self, or the self-concept of selfhood: the "relation's relating itself to itself in the relation." In The Sickness Unto Death, Kierkegaard delves into the binary concepts of the finite and the infinite and the possible and the necessary. Tension between these polarities results from not being right with God. And, thus, despair. Kierkegaard elaborates further that there are three kinds of despair. All this is not as interesting as The Concept of Anxiety, so I will not elaborate. However, my favorite passage in The Sickness Unto Death comes when Kierkegaard is describing the person who lives life in a religious mode, but who, in the process of becoming spiritual, has lost his self:
Such things do not create much of a stir in the world, for a self is the last thing the world cares about and the most dangerous thing of all for a person to show signs of having. The greatest hazard of all, losing the self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss--an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc.--is sure to be noticed.
This car is enjoyable; it looks decent and handles nicely. But it takes a certain sense of humor to fully enjoy it. If you drive this car thinking, Here comes the badass, you are a moron. If you want that kind of status, you need a Porsche--you need at least a Porsche. The Crossfire is a Chrysler and is sort of a Mercedes but the thing is plopped into the shape of a Porsche. It ends up being ... well, a Crossfire. And good thing. Enjoy it!
Check in with libertarian journalist Tom Clarke as he investigates the disappearance of several people supposedly arrested under new antiterror legislation in England. The disappeared are rumored to be stashed at a government facility. Turns out they are suspected of carrying a rapidly spreading virulent Aids-like disease that the reactionary government wants to contain (understandably). In this short novel, author Simon Lelic loosely explores the plight of the press and the questionably condemned in a democratic system under duress. Draconian antiterror legislation is the villain. Everything else is imperfect but forgivable when posed against the background of a scared, expedience-minded government susceptible to ethical denial.
This book is celebrated for being evenhanded; I would say that indeed it focuses on the immediate rather than the theoretical. The narrative relays many of the terrors and revulsions of war. But does that make it neutral? No. The book is, however, a valuable document of the war experience from a ground-level, engaged perspective. In With The Old Breed, Eugene Sledge gives us his experiences in the Pacific during World War II, in vicious battle and prolonged rot and anxiety. Sledge describes the horrors, the toll on one's mind, the resentments, prejudices, anxiety, and dehumanization a soldier experiences and witnesses. This book is a closeup. Sledge's disgust for the worst events comes through, but he devotes double that time to recognizing and honoring fellow soldiers. His praise is probably mythification, but for the shit they went through, Sledge's heroes deserve whatever token he can deliver.
Politics makes for especially caustic conversation in America these days. We discuss political polarization because we wonder if honest bipartisanship is dead and if we are headed for a point of no return. We sometimes seem violently rabid in our views; then we wonder if we have always been like this. Whatever the case, Yuval Levin lays down some historical context for today's American Left-Right binary. Representing the founder of conservatism, Levin shows us Edmund Burke (1729-1797), widely credited as the founding philosophical Conservative. Levin briefly introduces the Dublin-born author, politician, and philosopher, then paraphrases Burke's political ideology, drawing largely from Burke's writings on the American and French Revolutions. Representing the modern American Left is Thomas Paine (1737-1736). Steeped in both the American and French revolutions, the English-born Paine authored the (in)famous pamphlet "Common Sense," which, to many, inspired the rebels' declaration of independence from Britain in 1776. Levin paraphrases Paine, drawing from his American Revolution writings and his defense of the bloody French Revolution. In The Great Debate: Edmund Burke, Thomas Paine, and the Birth of Left and Right, Levin devotes more time to Burke, largely using Paine to further refine an explanation of Burke's views. But Levin does not misrepresent Paine, exactly, so no real harm done. And Pain's shortchange comes as no suprise--Yuval Levin is a conservative intellectual born in Israel who founded National Affairs. By the end of The Great Debate, Burke's and Paine's stances were so qualified, excepted, and nuanced as to be ripe for accusations of inconsistency and flip-flopping. Same old, same old.
