Remembering

Given that it's the day that it is, I wanted to mention two veterans that we've talked about here previously:

My (maternal) grandfather John W. Dennis:



My grandfather (by marriage) Johann Lamm:

Post-...um...brevity

Just in case you were looking for a one-sentence description of post-structuralism (and I know you were), Adam Shatz provides one in an LRB review (which is also otherwise worth reading) of a new biography of Claude Lévi-Strauss:

Inverting Lévi-Strauss’s favoured terms, Derrida and his allies celebrated diachrony over synchrony, events over structure, the exception over the rule, the periphery over the centre, the variable over the invariant. 

I hope to have cleared a few things up.

It's not so much a policy, it's more like free verse

Prospective Republican candidate for president Herman Cain (who is apparently leading the party's polls), responding to a question at last night's debate about how he would respond in the face of a possible European financial meltdown:

"Just like a dollar must be a dollar when we wake up in the morning, just like 60 minutes is in an hour, a dollar must be a dollar."

That's very reassuring.

The Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung helpfully informs us today that a candidate for the Republican presidential nomination embarrassed himself in last night's debate.

I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been the Governor of Texas; however, it seems to have been some other chap.

This race is even more crowded than I thought it was! I should start paying more attention.

And so, it seems should the FAZ.

Krieg den Palästen!

I note briefly that the Communist firebrands at The Economist--citing a Congressional Budget Office report--have chimed in on one aspect of the 'Occupy' protests: the 'we are the 99%' slogan.

Their comment:

"Whatever the cause, the data are powerful because they tend to support two prejudices. First, that a system that works well for the very richest has delivered returns on labour that are disappointing for everyone else. Second, that the people at the top have made out like bandits over the past few decades, and that now everyone else must pick up the bill. Of course it is a little more complicated than that. But this downturn ought to test the normally warm feelings in America of the 99% towards the 1%."

And if there's anything I like, ladies and gents, it's having my prejudices supported.

Thank you, Economist, for bringing so much joy to my lunch break.

In case you were wondering where Helmut Kohl learned his moves

Today's Grauniad, after referring to Wolfgang Schäuble as one of those conservative politicians who might have succeeded Helmut Kohl:

In the end a younger mentor of Kohl's – Angela Merkel – became the next CDU chancellor seven years later.

She certainly looks young for her years, I must say.

German Atlanticism of times past: No snakes in this here Garden of Eden

Something I ran across while looking up British press responses to the work of Oswald Spengler: a review of Ohne Amerika Geht Es Nicht (roughly: 'It won't work without America') by Emil Müller-Sternheim.

OHNE AMERIKA GEHT ES NICHT. Von E. Muller-Sternheim. (Vienna: Amalthea-Verlag.)—This is a curious book. Imagine all the criticisms of the United States which have recently been put forward by various writers, and then imagine a decided, even enthusiastic refutation of all of them, and one would have some idea of this volume, which is dedicated to President Hoover.

As the title implies, the writer holds that without the active assistance of America Europe is doomed, not only in the economic sphere but in culture, art, morals—almost in every respect. The thesis is developed in a very lively fashion and, incidentally, contains criticisms of Malthus, Karl Marx, Ricardo and Oswald Spengler, who is treated as a representative of European snobbery. All the less favourable aspects of American civilization are passed over, and at the end one wonders whether there can be any snake at all in this Garden of Eden.

The American woman has a laudatory chapter to herself; American State-education is analysed, entirely to its advantage as compared with German. The Kellogg Pact and the League of Nations are described as supreme achievements of American statesmanship, and America is strongly defended against charges of “denationalization” of its immigrants, which had been brought against her by German critics.

As a reaction against superficial condemnation the book certainly is of interest, but one doubts whether even the most patriotic American would care to accept all Herr Muller-Sternheim’s assertion [sic] without qualification.

The Times Literary Supplement, 6 November 1930, 918. (Paragraph breaks added)  

The book certainly sounds interesting (not least for the dedication to President Hoover); however, ...minor quibble: I happen to know some rather patriotic Americans, and, pace the (unnamed) reviewer, I think they'd eat this sort of thing up 'without qualification'.

[UPDATE]

While we're dealing with the topic of American-style German love:


Olli Schulz und der Hund Marie, 'America-Ibiza Connection'

Spreading one's person over the territory of the little man; or, notes on loving thy fellow passenger

New research interests (the origins of which I've been meaning to write about) have led me to examining Anglican thinking about society and international relations in the 1930s.

Said research has led me to the Guardian, which refers not to the better known contemporary paper of that name but rather an Anglican (more specifically, Anglo-Catholic) newspaper. In looking through the volume for 1935, I ran across the following comment which has nothing to do with my project but  -- since I have spent some fair amount of time on British trains in my life -- I found interesting.

Comfort for the Third-Class

The third-class railway traveller is being better cared for than he was twenty-five years ago, and at Euston Station last week visitors were able to compare a typical train of 1910 with one of the best of 1935. The improvement in the third-class accommodation proved the eagerness of the railway companies to consider the needs of the poorer traveller.

The best of all reforms is the provision of arm-rests; no longer will the bulky traveller be able to spread his person over the territory of the little man, for each will get the space that he has paid for. It is a pity, however, that while the long-journey traveller is being thus considered the unfortunate passenger on the suburban services is but little better off than he was forty years ago. On some lines, indeed, he is worse off, for whereas once upon a time the rule was ‘five a side,’ to-day, by a slight widening of the coaches, six are packed in.

‘Six a side’ in trains to-day has been the cause of more bickering and ill-feeling on the way to work or on the homeward struggle than any amount of political argument. Moreover there are often about eight other passengers standing in a compartment, to the discomfort and irritation of all. It is difficult for a man to love his neighbours on a journey from, say, Liverpool Street to Ilford.

'An Onlooker's Diary', Guardian, 10 May 1935, p. 304. (Paragraph breaks added)

A question to those who might know this kind of thing: when did 'third class' rail travel disappear?

I mean as an explicit category, of course, and not as a subjective experience.

(The 'historical bycatch' series; explanation.) 

'I will not allow violence against this house'

One of my all-time favourite movies is Straw Dogs, Sam Peckinpah's gripping 1971 film that pits a sensitive academic played by Dustin Hoffman against a group of Cornish country boys bent on a bit of -- in the term used in another film released the same year, A Clockwork Orange -- ultraviolence.

The film is often described as 'controversial' and is frequently condemned, above all for a (in my view, unjustly) much criticised rape scene; however, I find it to be a compelling (and to some extent timeless) exploration of the position of the 'civilised' man in 'uncivilised' contexts.

The fact that the original has been remade is, in my view, both interesting and appalling. Since I find the original to be almost perfect, I'm sceptical about the re-make. However, Melissa Lafsky at The Awl offers a relatively positive review of the new version that highlights the strengths of the old.

E.g., commenting on Dustin Hoffman's peformance in the original, Lafsky notes:

There's something baseline archetypal in the plight of a small man. His struggle is the struggle, the inescapable fight to triumph over one's immutable circumstances. He can do whatever is in his power—obtain expensive degrees, make bank, build up intellectual capital—to raise his social valuation. But he's never going to be the guy you veer away from on the sidewalk.

Man, how have I wished at times to be 'the guy you veer away from on the sidewalk'.

Unfortunately, it's just not in my character (or physique).

I guess I'll have to be content with 'intellectual capital'.

Lafsky's review is worth reading. And (at least the original) is worth watching.

All for now: I need to get back to cleaning my guns.

(Title reference)

Fire for effect

So it seems the Pope has just arrived in Berlin.

As this video shows, German artillery was unsuccessful in halting the advance of His Holiness from the beachhead he'd immediately established upon exiting Vatican One.

Benedict then moved decisively forward, and it appears that the German political leadership was quickly driven into submission without the slightest struggle.

Welcome to the occupation. 

All good things...

...come to an end.

Which is good: otherwise you turn into the Rolling Stones.

It astonished me to think just now that the (one and only) concert at which I saw R.E.M. live was just about 25 years ago.

Just a few years after this.



Thanks, guys, for all the great music.

[UPDATE]

Dale explains something important to the kids of today about music fandom in the dark ages:

I write this within physical reach of seventeen REM CDs, almost all of them worth cherishing, the others merely well above average. Modern-day readers will understand CDs as sort of a primitive version of blu ray disks made especially for music -- no video signal at all -- and meant to carry upwards of 80 minutes of music. People paid money for them in stores, frequently without having heard a note of the music encoded on them beforehand, then trudged back to their hand-built log cabins to build a fire against the forbidding night's cold and for cooking cornbread or biscuits or thinnest gruel, depending on the quality of the recent harvest. The cows would need to be milked at dawn, the potatoes dug thereafter. Then school would start.

This is certainly helpful, but it occurs to me that I only bought my first R.E.M. CD in 1994 (Monster).

How am I supposed to explain cassette tapes?

Anyway, Dale's reference to school starting and to buying albums without ever having heard the music on them also reminded me of how it was that I first found out about this band.

In what must have been 1985 (before the band was really getting radioplay on anything other than 'college rock' stations), a girl sitting in one of my high school classes (I have an inkling it was 'social studies' or history) had worn a Fables of the Reconstruction T-shirt.

Finding the graphic design interesting and the title words evocative -- and, though I can't now recall but remembering how the mind of a fifteen-year-old boy works, perhaps finding the girl pretty -- I biked up that afternoon to a now-defunct 'record store' near my house (which was adjacent to something then known as a 'video arcade') and bought the tape.

I can still recall hearing that opening riff of 'Feeling Gravitys Pull' on my Sears all-in-one stereo unit. (It included, believe it or not, an 8-track player along with the turntable and tape deck. Having siblings of a certain age, it got some use, I assure you. This was an age before bit-torrent: you took your music where you could find it.)

There it was in all its analog glory, as I squatted next to the fire and sipped gruel.

Good times.

[UPDATED UPDATE]

To bring the whole clash-of-technologies theme full circle, an obsessive R.E.M. tour archive reminds me of exactly where and when that concert I saw took place and what songs they played:

4 November 1987 - Circle Pavillion, University of Illinois, Chicago, IL
support: The dB's
set: Finest Worksong / These Days / Harborcoat / Disturbance At The Heron House / Fall On Me / Exhuming McCarthy / Orange Crush / Feeling Gravitys Pull / King Of Birds / White Tornado / Cuyahoga / Tired Of Singing Trouble / I Believe / Maps And Legends / Superman / Auctioneer (Another Engine) / Oddfellows Local 151 / It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) / Begin The Begin
encore 1: Strange / Wolves, Lower / Driver 8 / Just A Touch
encore 2: The One I Love / Pop Song 89 / See No Evil
encore 3: Harpers / Crazy / After Hours

I forgot the dB's opened. But now remembering, they were excellent too.

Milestones

Yesterday, my hometown major league baseball team, the Chicago Cubs, won their 4,000th victory at Wrigley Field.

Perhaps not the biggest story in the world.

But a chance to play another Mountain Goats song that has not, as of yet, been played here.


'Cubs in Five', the Mountain Goats

"they're gonna find intelligent life up there on the moon
and the Canterbury Tales will shoot up to the top of the best seller list
and stay there for 27 weeks

and the Chicago Cubs will beat every team in the league and the Tampa Bay Bucs will make it all the way to January and I will love you again I will love you, like I used to"

Faith and the 'drunken-faced knave'

The London Review of Books (25 Aug 2011) has an interesting review (sadly behind the subscriber wall) of what sounds like a fascinating book about early-modern English Christian beliefs.

Part of its fascination comes from its interest in explaining what we might call everyday belief, so how ordinary English people approached the Christian faith. Because it is based upon ecclesiastical court files it sounds like it has -- like all books based on court records -- a tendency to focus on situations in which, in one way or another, things go awry.

Hence, along with whatever else it tells us, the book apparently adds to our knowledge of early modern insults.

From the review:

Ecclesiastical courts enforced church attendance, Sabbath observance, the payment of tithes and sexual morality. In their records we overhear the voices of hundreds of ordinary men and women. A Somerset churchgoer in 1632 complains that ‘there was nothing done at prayer time in the said church of West Lidford but tooting upon the organs, and that it delighteth him as much to hear his horse fart as to hear the said organs go.’ In an argument with the parson of Dogmerfield in Hampshire over a tithe in 1581, Rowland Bowrer declares: ‘Thou art a covetous man … Go take Mother Canning by the cunt again!’ Haigh spends several pages on the insults suffered by clergymen, such as ‘stinking knave priest’, ‘scurvy, stinking, shitten boy’, ‘totter legged and pilled priest’, ‘Scottish jack’, ‘jack sauce and Welsh rogue’, ‘a runagately rogue and a prick-eared rogue’, ‘polled, scurvy, forward, wrangling priest’, ‘wrangler and prattler’, ‘black-coat knave’, ‘drunken-faced knave’ and ‘copper-nose priest’. 

I, for one, plan to incorporate '‘totter legged and pilled' into my arsenal of insults.

I mean: nobody (except perhaps certain early-modern scholars) is going to be expecting that.

'I hope we all die'

Given the quality of the live recording and the fact that this was the first Mountain Goats song that I ever heard (on a train trip from Bayreuth to Trier, as I recall it, circa 2003) I find it's acceptable to post another video from this concert.



So there.

Learning: or, 'hacking your way through the jungle of unintelligibility'

I'm not an expert on British education policy, though having been an employee of an institution of higher education on that blessed isle for going on six years now, I have had had more than a little experience with its coal face (at least with regard to research).

Stefan Collini has a lengthy article critical of recent British educational reforms. I can't comment on all the details, but this passage hit the right note:

The paradox of real learning is that you don’t get what you ‘want’ – and you certainly can’t buy it. The really vital aspects of the experience of studying something (a condition very different from ‘the student experience’) are bafflement and effort. Hacking your way through the jungle of unintelligibility to a few small clearings of partial intelligibility is a demanding and not always enjoyable process. It isn’t much like wallowing in fluffy towels. And it helps if you trust your guides rather than assuming they will skimp on the job unless they’re kept up to the mark by constant monitoring of their performance indicators.

Translating this into 'policy', I know, is not easy.

But I would largely agree with Collini that perhaps too much is being tinkered with in a system that, in its previous state, hasn't been doing all that badly.