The world is so exquisite with so much love and moral depth, that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there's little good evidence. Far better it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look death in the eye and to be grateful every day for the brief but magnificent opportunity that life provides.
Carl Sagan
As used by the states, the literacy test gained infamy as a means for denying suffrage to African Americans. Adopted by a number of southern states, the literacy test was applied in a patently unfair manner, as it was used to disfranchise many literate southern blacks while allowing many illiterate southern whites to vote. The literacy test, combined with other discriminatory requirements, effectively disfranchised the vast majority of African Americans in the South from the 1890s until the 1960s. Southern states abandoned the literacy test only when forced to by federal legislation in the 1960s. In 1964, the Civil Rights Act provided that literacy tests used as a qualification for voting in federal elections be administered wholly in writing and only to persons who had not completed six years of formal education. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 suspended the use of literacy tests in all states or political subdivisions in which less than 50 percent of the voting age residents were registered as of 1 November 1964, or had voted in the 1964 presidential election. In a series of cases, the Supreme Court upheld the legislation and restricted the use of literacy tests for non-English-speaking citizens. Since the passage of the civil rights legislation of the 1960s, black registration in the South has increased dramatically.
Think about this: Tom Tancredo, with full knowledge of both the history of and the implications of the term, is in favor of reinstating the literacy test, and, without shame, expressed this desire in a public forum. In 2010.
Here’s what I would like to know: who is “we”? Who is he referring to here? Who are the teapartiers referring to when they say that they are speaking for “the American people”? Because they’re certainly not referring to me or to anyone I know. I can say with certainty that I would never, for one second, be part of or have any connection to any organization or group made up of individuals who express and/or encourage such vile and dangerous rhetoric. I know that if I had been present when Tancredo made that statement, I’d have immediately walked out in disgust. And I believe that I can safely say that everyone I know would have done the exact same thing. By choosing not to leave or to otherwise register their disapproval, Tancredo’s audience showed their approval of this ignorant and bigoted nonsense and they share with Tancredo the responsibility for the potentially dangerous and/or violent consequences of his appalling rhetoric.
In addition to feeling disgust at this vile racism, I find it so depressing, disheartening, and upsetting that this country isn’t doing more to oppose and combat this nasty, faux-populist, bigoted, and anti-intellectual movement. I fear that too many of us don’t understand or don’t want to think about the level of influence and power that this movement has and thus are tempted to brush them off as a nasty-but-ultimately-harmless extremist fringe. But they’re certainly not harmless. And, everyday, more and more people are finding within the movement a place in which their ignorance and bigotry are both welcomed and encouraged.
All of this makes me very pessimistic about the future of this country. We’re regressing, to put it mildly, and I fear that this regression won’t be stopping anytime soon.
The teapartiers are having their national “convention” this week. It’s certain to be a ridiculous and nasty mix of faux-populism, bigotry, conspiracy theories, and baseless whining about being “ignored” or “persecuted.”
One of the most disturbing things about the teapartiers is their assumption that their (almost always unjustified) anger is somehow evidence enough for any sort of claims or assertions that they make. This circular and painfully illogical thought process seems to be: “We’re angry about x. Therefore, we’re right about x and we’re justified in forcing our willfully ignorant and blatantly bigoted views about x into public discourse. If you do not accept this, you are persecuting us. Persecuting us makes us angry about x. Therefore,…” and on and on, blah blah blah.
Dissent and debate are vital components of a functioning democracy. But real dissent and genuine debate can only occur when both parties are willing to consider the same facts, base their opinions on these facts, and engage in reasonable, measured debate. The teapartiers absolutely refuse to do any of this, though.
This isn’t about freedom of speech. Of course all Americans have the right to speak freely and openly about their opinions and that right certainly must be protected. No, this is about which speech, claims, and/or arguments deserve respect, serious consideration, and/or a place in legitimate public discourse.
By knowingly spreading incorrect information, promulgating conspiracy theories, and refusing to engage with actual facts, the teapartiers have demonstrated that they have neither interest in nor respect for civil and reasonable debate. As such, they do not deserve a place in legitimate public discourse and their presence there only serves to distract from the actual facts of the issues under discussion.
If serious and legitimate public discourse is to survive in America’s current political atmosphere, we (especially the mainstream media) must demand actual evidence for all assertions and we must remind the teapartiers and others who are hostile to rationality that their feelings aren’t facts and that their anger isn’t evidence.
Allowing their ignorant and hateful fear mongering into serious public discourse only legitimizes and encourages their tactics. We must not permit this to happen. Although I know that it sounds dramatic, I really do think that the survival of American public discourse depends on it.
After the death of a successful author, almost like clockwork, the speculation about whether or not they left behind any unpublished work begins. This may sound harsh, but such speculation almost always makes me think of vultures circling a literary corpse, and the recent death of J.D. Salinger has certainly brought out the vultures in droves.
If, upon their death, an author leaves behind a completed work without providing instructions regarding whether or not it should be published, I think it’s fair to assume that, had the author wanted it to be published, they would have done so during their lifetime. Far most disturbing, though, are the situations in which, although an author has made it clear that they do not want the work to be published or that they want it to be destroyed, their wishes are ignored by the executors of their literary estates.
Although I felt very conflicted about doing so, I did purchase The Original of Laura and am currently reading it. I suppose that, in this case, I let my curiosity win out. Reading it has only strengthened my feelings and thoughts regarding this issue, though. I cannot think of any way to justify the publication of The Original of Laura, and, although I’m certainly open to discussing the issue, I also cannot immediately think of any justifications for other instances of posthumous publishing, unless the author made it clear that they wanted the work to be published after their death.
When this issue is discussed (two recent examples come to mind, both from NPR’s On Point: a discussion about Salinger and one about Nabokov), those who are in favor of posthumous publishing, even when it directly violates the author’s explicit instructions, often argue that it is acceptable to ignore an author’s wishes if publishing the work that they left behind will greatly contribute to the world of literature.
However, no amount of potential benefit to the world of literature, to scholars, or to readers justifies ignoring an author’s instructions, whether implicit or explicit, regarding the posthumous publication of their work. Their wishes must be respected. If the works that an author released during their lifetime made us happy, expanded our knowledge, gave us a new perspective on the world, or provided us with inspiration and/or hope, don’t we at least owe them that?
I’m curious: what do you think about this issue? I’d love to discuss it.
Apple’s big announcement finally came today and let me just say: ooh! Ooh! The iPad! Want! Want! Weirdly enough, out of all of its great features, I’m most excited by the news that the full-screen color edition of The New York Times will be available as an iPad app. How fantastic would it be to play the NYT crossword puzzle on the iPad? Just the thought of being able to combine my love of crossword puzzles with my love of Apple products gives me a ridiculous amount of nerdy delight.
Because I apparently live in a fantasy land in which I have copious amounts of money to spend on wonderfully exciting Apple products, I signed up to be notified when they go on sale, even though there’s no way that I’ll be able to afford one in the near future. Oh well.
(But oh, Steve Jobs, do you have to call it “magical”? The cheesiness! It burns!)
Relatedly, I’ve been feeling nostalgic for MST3K lately, and all of this Apple talk has made me think of this hilarious clip of Tom Servo and Crow having a Mac vs. PC debate back in 1991 (!!):
Aw, I love them.
Anyway: fellow Mac nerds, what do you think of the iPad?
Loathsome as Robertson’s views undoubtedly are, he is the Christian who stands squarely in the Christian tradition. The agonized theodiceans who see suffering as an intractable ‘mystery’, or who ’see God’ in the help, money and goodwill that is now flooding into Haiti , or (most nauseating of all) who claim to see God ’suffering on the cross’ in the ruins of Port-au-Prince, those faux-anguished hypocrites are denying the centrepiece of their own theology. It is the obnoxious Pat Robertson who is the true Christian here.
I can’t imagine what God he is talking about. “The God of the Bible” he references is pretty demonstrably a maniac, an unbridled psychopath slaughtering entire civilizations, sanctioning slavery and rape, and that’s just the first book. And God is suffering today? I think the Haitian people need not weep for that. I would imagine that quake or no quake, sin or no sin, God’s going to come out of this just fine.
And the upshot of this contemptible enterprise is still to end up in the same place – God will work all things for our good even if we don’t understand – so it’s okay that God crushed a lot of people to death at once and let a lot of others die very slowly in pain and thirst and fear. Well fuck that. It’s not okay. If God exists and did that, God is a monster. Don’t explain away horrors
What these letters prove, as if we need more proof, is that being smart doesn’t mean that you’re rational. There is no evil, no disaster, so great that the faithful can’t rationalize it as the plan of a loving God. Could some of them please tell us what circumstance would convince them that either there is no God, or that the one who exists isn’t so benevolent after all?
• I’m currently reading (and very much enjoying) Harold Bloom’s How to Read and Why, and tonight I came across this beautiful passage:
Yet the strongest, most authentic motive for deep reading of the now much-abused traditional canon is the search for a difficult pleasure. I am not exactly an erotics-of-reading purveyor, and a pleasurable difficulty seems to me a plausible definition of the Sublime, but a higher pleasure remains the reader’s quest. There is a reader’s Sublime, and it seems the only secular transcendence we can ever attain, except for the even more precarious transcendence we call “falling in love.” I urge you to find what truly comes near to you, that can be used for weighing and considering. Read deeply, not to believe, not to accept, not to contradict, but to learn to share in that one nature that writes and reads.
Oh, I love that!
• Another thing that I love: Chanel’s Coco Mademoiselle, which is quite possibly the prettiest perfume that has ever existed. I received it as a Christmas present, and the bottle is so lovely that I’ve kept it on my bedside table ever since:
It’s delectably pretty and I am besotted with it at the moment. Also, I’m quite fond of its ad campaign, especially this:
Gorgeous! I want to live inside that commercial, in the land of pretty dresses, a land in which there’s no theodicy or apophatic theology… Ah, well, a girl can dream! :)
Remember Mark Vernon, he of The Holy Rabbit fame? Well, he’s back. Oh, goody. In today’s Comment is free, in an article titled “A third way through the Bible”, he discusses Howard Jacobson’s television documentary, The Bible: A History. Unsurprisingly, Vernon’s article is full of false analogies, pathetic attempts to rationalize his nonsensical beliefs, and his usual obscurantism. There’s really no reason to analyze or deconstruct the entire piece. But one thing must be mentioned.
In his documentary, Jacobson visited the horrid Mary Midgley, who, Vernon tells us, told Jacobson that:
treating the biblical account of creation literally makes no more sense than asking whether King Lear really had three daughters.
Seriously?
SERIOUSLY?
Someone actually thinks that this is a valid analogy?
Really?
Do I really have to spell out why this analogy does not work? Really?
Apparently so: does anyone use King Lear as the basis of their religion, as the core of their faith, or as a moral guide? Does anyone deny scientific fact when it contradicts King Lear? Does anyone use their faith in King Lear as a justification for their bigotry, hatred, or oppression? Does anyone pray to King Lear? Does anyone worry that King Lear will sentence them to an eternity in hell for their sins? Does anyone think that King Lear is almighty, all-knowing, and omnipresent? Have people fought wars over whose interpretation of King Lear is the correct one?
Nope.
Wow. My jaw literally fell open when I read that. Utter and complete Analogy Fail.
I always find this kind of dishonest theological babble to be frustratingly ridiculous, but I’m rarely shocked by it anymore. The sheer stupidity of this analogy truly is shocking, though.
Sometimes a little dose of Hemingway is just what I need:
It was wonderful to walk down the long flight of stairs knowing that I’d had good luck working. I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day. But sometimes when I was starting a new story and I could not get it going, I would sit in front of the fire and squeeze the peel of the little oranges into the edge of the flame and watch the sputter of the blue that they made. I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think. ‘Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.’ So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say. If I started to write elaborately, or like someone introducing or presenting something, I found that I could cut the scroll-work or ornament out and throw it away and start with the first true simple declarative sentence I had written. Up in that room I decided that I would write one story about each thing that I knew about. I was trying to do this all the time I was writing, and it was good and severe discipline.
Woody Allen’s Crimes and Misdemeanors is quite possibly my favorite film. It’s engrossing, thoughtful, funny, smart, and achingly poignant. I’m feeling rather wistful today, and, when I’m feeling this way, I like to revisit the film’s final scene:
We’re all faced throughout our lives with agonizing decisions, moral choices. Some are on a grand scale, most of these choices are on lesser points. But we define ourselves by the choices we have made. We are, in fact, the sum total of our choices. Events unfold so unpredictably, so unfairly. Human happiness does not seem to have been included in the design of creation. It is only we, with our capacity to love, that give meaning to the indifferent universe. And yet, most human beings seem to have the ability to keep trying and even to find joy from simple things, like their family, their work, and from the hope that future generations might understand more.
I can’t watch that clip without tearing up a bit. It’s a truly lovely film.
