First: the rules of the game are in equilibrium: that is, from the start, the diamond was made just the right size, the pitcher’s mound just the right distance from home plate, etc., and this makes possible the marvelous plays, such as the double play. The physical layout of the game is perfectly adjusted to the human skills it is meant to display and to call into graceful exercise. Whereas, basketball, e.g., is constantly (or was then) adjusting its rules to get them in balance.

Second: the game does not give unusua1 preference or advantage to special physical types, e.g., to tall men as in basketball. All sorts of abilities can find a place somewhere, the tall and the short etc. can enjoy the game together in different positions.

Third: the game uses all parts of the body: the arms to throw, the legs to run, and to swing the bat, etc.; per contra soccer where you can’t touch the ball. It calls upon speed, accuracy of throw, gifts of sight for batting, shrewdness for pitchers and catchers, etc. And there are all kinds of strategies.

more from Boston Review here.

From Outlook India:

“With young children,” as Jhumpa Lahiri puts it in her elegant, understated way, “the days can be rather mercurial.” That hasn’t stopped her from finding the time to write a third book. In an interview with Sheela Reddy on the launch of Unaccustomed Earth, the Pulitzer winner talks about the two great loves of her life: her children and her writing. You once remarked that winning the Pulitzer was like being a kid and winning a senior citizen’s award. Do you feel more comfortable as a Pulitzer winner now that you have written your third book? Not really. It (Pulitzer) will always remain a very strange and in some senses very early, one may say premature, period for the writer I was at that time. But it must help in terms of confidence levels? Writing is so humbling, there’s no confidence involved. It helps to have some experience, a greater degree of familiarity with the process of writing. I think each time you start a story or novel or whatever, you are absolutely at the bottom of the ladder all over again. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done before.  More here. (Note: I just read this magnificent collection of short stories and highly recommend it).

Fabrizio Plessi is one of the pioneers of video art, but, just as importantly, he is a master of water — the mythical stream of water Heracleitus said one could not step in twice, the water that is one of the four primary elements, the wetness that tradition thought the melancholiac lacked, the water that poured forth from a desert stone when Moses struck it — the water without which there is no universe and life. Like a dolphin, or the boy who was rescued by one in Greek mythology, and was triumphantly carried on its back as it swam the seven seas, Plessi is astonishingly at ease with water. He never surrenders to its treachery, never submits to the siren song of its surface beauty, inviting one to plunge into its depths. Water, which hides death in its depths, and is traditionally a seductive feminine element — tempting but deceptive — has a certain masculine potency for Plessi. Waterfall (1976) suggests as much: one need not be overwhelmed by water to identify with its rushing power.

more from artnet here.

Two men, two speeches. The men, both lawyers, both from Illinois, were seeking the presidency, despite what seemed their crippling connection with extremists. Each was young by modern standards for a president. Abraham Lincoln had turned fifty-one just five days before delivering his speech. Barack Obama was forty-six when he gave his. Their political experience was mainly provincial, in the Illinois legislature for both of them, and they had received little exposure at the national level—two years in the House of Representatives for Lincoln, four years in the Senate for Obama. Yet each was seeking his party’s nomination against a New York senator of longer standing and greater prior reputation—Lincoln against Senator William Seward, Obama against Senator Hillary Clinton. They were both known for having opposed an initially popular war—Lincoln against President Polk’s Mexican War, raised on the basis of a fictitious provocation; Obama against President Bush’s Iraq War, launched on false claims that Saddam Hussein possessed WMDs and had made an alliance with Osama bin Laden.

more from the NYRB here.

….

from [Statue of Liberty]
Ann Killough

So now what if the Statue of Liberty has found out that she can move
and is only waiting for the right moment?

What if there are beginning to be words in her book, more and
more words on the coppery pages, the ones that do not turn, or not
yet?

What if she is beginning to feel the horror of her position, the way
she has no peers or even anyone who understands that she is in the
tradition of the enormous destroyer?

What is it she is becoming convinced she must destroy?

…………………………………..

So now picture what you think the Statue of Liberty might destroy
and realize that you are not right.

That whatever you thought of is not it, or at least not quite it and
certainly not all of it.

That you have no idea what she is thinking, or at least not a complete
idea.

That the very nature of her body renders her susceptible not only to
alien transmissions but to all the other transmissions of the earth.

That she is a kind of Pole along with the North and South ones and
draws the magnetic fields of the earth toward herself like shiploads
of huddled immigrants and reads them like ticker tape inside her
spiky head.

That she feels what you feel but much more of it.

That she sees what you see but the backside of it as well, the side
you will never see.

That she has already begun to change something even in you, even
in me.

That we already know what it is.

…

From Scientific American:

Scientists for the first time have identified long-term changes in mice brains that may shed light on why addicts get hooked on drugs—in this case methamphetamines—and have such a tough time kicking the habit. The findings, reported in the journal Neuron, could set the stage for new ways to block cravings—and help addicts dry out.

Researchers, using fluorescent tracer dye, discovered that mice given methamphetamines for 10 days (roughly equivalent to a human using it for two years) had suppressed activity in a certain area of their brains. Much to their surprise, normal function did not return even when the drug was stopped, but did when they administered a single dose of it again after the mice had been in withdrawal.

Study co-author Nigel Bamford, a pediatric neurologist at the University of Washington School of Medicine, says that if similar changes occur in humans, it will indicate that an effective way to fight addiction may be to design therapies that target the affected area—the striatum, a forebrain region that controls movement but also has been linked to habit-forming behavior.

More here.

It was a year ago today that Kurt Vonnegut died. Like so many others, we at 3QD were extremely saddened and for a couple of days we almost became a KV-only site. (Check it out here.)

Deirdre Wengen in PhillyBurbs.com:

“If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”

A year after his death, it almost feels as if Kurt Vonnegut has traveled through a chrono-synclastic infundibulum and reemerged—mop-headed and mustached—to warn the world one last time about the grim consequences of human folly. Recently released, “Armageddon in Retrospect” contains twelve previously unpublished writings by the popular prognosticator—all dealing, in one way or another, with the infinitely debatable topics of war and peace.

The publication is, however, about far more than subject matter. It acts as a fond farewell, a last goodbye, to an author whose work spans multiple generations. In the introduction, Mark Vonnegut offers a candid account of his father’s life and work, from Vonnegut’s favorite jokes and strange habits to how he regarded his readers and reacted to the Iraq War. The first ten pages even provide amusing allusions to the writer’s ever-increasing pile of concerns, among them his “skinny legs” and inability to play tennis. The tribute is humorous, heartfelt and a delight to read—a chunk of bittersweet marble in Vonnegut’s monolithic memorial. But, as Mark himself explains, his father’s writing needs no introduction.

More here.

Yesterday, in a private email to my siblings, I lamented the treatment of Hindus in Pakistan. This fit of regretful pique was brought on by reading the news of one 22-year-old Jagdeesh Kumar who was beaten to death in a factory in Karachi by his coworkers for allegedly blaspheming the prophet Muhammad. You can read the whole sad, but all-too-common, story here. So it is timely that Ali Eteraz sent his excellent article to me today about Hindus in Pakistan. This is from The Guardian:

The cultural and institutional marginalisation of Hindus in Pakistan is a travesty of human dignity and freedom.

Hindus in Pakistan have suffered grievously since the founding of the nation in 1947. Recently, in the southern province of Sindh, a Hindu man was accused of blasphemy and beaten to death by his co-workers. This comes at the heels of the abduction and dismemberment of a Hindu engineer.

A little while earlier, the military removed 70 Hindu families from lands where they had been living since the 19th century. To this day the temples that Pakistanis destroyed in 1992 in response to the destruction of the Babri mosque in India have not been restored.

Pakistan, according to many accounts, was founded as a way to protect the rights and existence of the minority Muslim population of Colonial India in the face of the larger Hindu majority. Pakistan’s founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, is reported to have said in 1947: “In due course of time Hindus will cease to be Hindus and Muslims will cease to be Muslims – not in a religious sense for that is the personal faith of an individual- but in a political sense as citizens of one state.” It is therefore a travesty of Pakistan’s own founding principles that its Hindus – and not to exclude Christians and Ahmadis – have suffered so grossly.

There are two levels of prejudice in Pakistan with respect to Hindus – the cultural and the legal.

While it is difficult to say which one is more pernicious, cultural prejudice is certainly more difficult to uproot because it is perpetuated by religious supremacism, nationalism, stories, myth, lies, families, media, schooling and bigotry.

More here.

How economics and game theory explain the shortage of available, appealing men.

Mark Gimein in Slate:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the available, sociable, and genuinely attractive man is a character highly in demand in social settings. Dinner hosts are always looking for the man who fits all the criteria. When they don’t find him (often), they throw up their hands and settle for the sociable but unattractive, the attractive but unsociable, and, as a last resort, for the merely available.

The shortage of appealing men is a century-plus-old commonplace of the society melodrama. The shortage—or—more exactly, the perception of a shortage—becomes evident as you hit your late 20s and more acute as you wander into the 30s. Some men explain their social fortune by believing they’ve become more attractive with age; many women prefer the far likelier explanation that male faults have become easier to overlook.

The problem of the eligible bachelor is one of the great riddles of social life. Shouldn’t there be about as many highly eligible and appealing men as there are attractive, eligible women?

More here.

May 28-June 1, 2008 is the World Science Festival in NYC. 

Speaker include: David Albert, Alan Alda, Nancy Andreasen, Karole Armitage, Steven Benner, Cynthia Breazeal, Blaine Brownell, Robert Butler, Majora Carter, Patricia Churchland, Francis Collins, Brian Cox, Antonio Damasio, Paul Davies, Daniel Dennett, Dickson Despommier, David Eagleman, James P. Evans, Mark Everett, Ira Flatow, Peter Galison, Jim Gates, Brian Greene, Saul Griffith, Heidi Hammel, Jonathan Harris, Eric Haseltine, Marc Hauser, Lucy Hawking, Peter Head, Shirley Ann Jackson, Mitchell Joachim, Tim Johnson, Bill T. Jones, Michio Kaku, Sandra Kaufmann, Helge Kragh, Bernie Krause, Lawrence Krauss, Robert Krulwich, Ray Kurzweil, Richard Leakey, Leon Lederman, Lukas Ligeti, Alan Lightman, Doug Liman, Marilyn Maye, Dan Nocera, Paul Nurse, Lyman Page, William Phillips, Vilayanur Ramachandran, Nikolas Rose, Oliver Sacks, Cliff Saron, James Schamus, David Sinclair, Anna Deavere Smith, Paul Steinhardt, Leonard Susskind, Julia Sweeney, Ian Tattersall, Max Tegmark, David Thoreson, Maggie Turnbull, and Richard Weindruch. 

You can find a list of events and buy tickets here.  I’m very excited about the talk on the Science of Morality on Thursday, May 29, 8:15 PM –  9:45 PM, at the 92nd Street Y, featuring Patricia Churchland, Antonio Damasio, Daniel Dennett and Marc Hauser.

Science is investigating the biological roots of empathy, altruism and cooperation to discover whether we possess an innate moral grammar, much like language, or whether morality arises from the interactions among biological and social systems.

In this presentation with the 92nd Street Y, Patricia Churchland, Antonio Damasio, Daniel Dennett and Marc Hauser discuss the science of right and wrong, and explore how our scientific understanding of morality may affect society, from shaping justice systems to deciding whether to engage in wars or to assist others in economic and humanitarian struggles.

Martin West, who has written what is surely the definitive book on Indo-European language and religion, states his case well: ‘The assumption of a single parent language as the historical source of all the known Indo-European languages . . . is still a hypothesis, not an observable fact, but it is an inescapable hypothesis.’ The Indo-European map links languages together in a group that is distinct from other groups, such as those that include Chinese or Tamil, say. The evidence that the Indo-European languages are related lies primarily in their grammar and vocabulary. Thus ‘foot’ is pada in Sanskrit, pes, pedis in Latin, pied in French, fuss in German, foot in English and so forth, and nouns and verbs behave entirely differently from their Hebrew or Navajo counterparts.

Indo-European linguistics assumes a diffusionist, centrifugal cultural movement: the political centre sends out armies and imposes its rule on neighbouring lands. The paradigm is Latin, which did indeed diffuse outwards to all the lands the Romans conquered, which therefore speak languages that we call Romance. Linguists then constructed, on the Roman model, an earlier family tree diverging from the centre, in this case not Rome but the Caucasus (or somewhere else in Central Asia). West calls the original common territory ‘Eurostan’ and remarks: ‘If it be asked what sea the worshippers of these prehistoric divinities went down to in *nawes and sailed on and foundered in, the likely answer is the northern Black Sea or the Sea of Azov.’ The mythical land of the family home might just as well be thought of as *Indo-Europe, the land east of the asterisk.

more from the LRB here.

My favorite part of “©Murakami,” a retrospective at the Brooklyn Museum of the juggernautish Japanese artist-entrepreneur Takashi Murakami, was the most controversial element in the show when it originated, at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles, last October: a functioning Louis Vuitton outlet, smack in the middle of things, selling aggressively pricey handbags and other bibelots, all Murakami-designed. (Vuitton has reportedly done hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of business in Murakamiana since its deal with the artist began, in 2003.) The shop is lovely. Shelving units in chrome and white enamel, with recessed fluorescent lighting that sets brass fittings on the merchandise aglint, caress the eye. They provide a haven from the strident grotesquerie of what might be termed Murakami’s fine-art product lines: paintings, sculpture, and wallpapered environments that play off the charms of Japanese traditional and popular arts with close to no charm of their own. But, then, retail swank is an aesthetic lingua franca today, and equations of art and commerce, pioneered by Andy Warhol and colonized by Jeff Koons, among others, are, at least, familiar. The show’s less cozy aspects remind me that I have never been to Japan. I don’t like Murakami’s work, but my dislike, being moody, feels out of scale with the artist’s terrific energy and ambition. For the second time in a couple of months—the first being at the Guggenheim retrospective of the meteoric Chinese festivalist Cai Guo-Qiang—New Yorkers have a chance to absorb our new geo-spiritual fate, as provincials in a world of creative paradigms that no longer entreat our favor. That has to be good for us.

more from The New Yorker here.

It is important not to suggest that it is only in rather special states of creativity – say, reading or writing poems – that we are distanced from animals. This is a mistake. We are different from animals in every waking moment of our lives. The bellowing on the lavatory that I referred to earlier demonstrates a huge gulf between us and our nearest animal kin. But if we deny this difference (invoking chimps etc) even in the case of creativity – and the appreciation of works of art – then no distance remains. That is why one would expect critics to be on the side of the poets, with their sense of this complexity, rather than siding with the terribles simplificateurs of scientism…

Neuroaesthetics is wrong about the present state of neuroscience: we are not yet able to explain human consciousness, even less articulate self-consciousness as expressed in the reading and writing of poetry. It is wrong about our experience of literature. And it is wrong about humanity.

more from the TLS here.

Michael Gazzaniga in Edge:

The great psychologist David Premack once lamented, “Why is it that the (equally great) biologist E.O Wilson can spot the difference between two different kinds of ants at a hundred yards, but can’t see the difference between an ant and a human?” The quip underlines strong differences of opinion on the issue of human uniqueness. It seems that half of the scientific world sees the human animal as on a continuum with other animals and others see a sharp break between animals and humans, see two distinct groups. The argument has been raging for years and it surely won’t be settled in the near future. After all, we humans are either lumpers or splitters. We either see the similarities or prefer to note the differences.

At the same time, I hope to illuminate the issue from a particular perspective. I think it is rather empty to argue that because, say, social behavior exists in humans and in ants, there is nothing unique about human social behavior. Both the F-16 and the piper cub are planes, both obey the laws of physics, both can get you from place A to place B, but both are hugely different and unique. I want to begin by simply recognizing the huge differences between the human mind and brain and other minds and brains and see what structures, processes, and capacities are uniquely human.

It has always been a puzzle to me why so many neuroscientists become agitated when someone raises the question of whether or not there might be unique features to the human brain. Why is it that one can easily accept that there are visible physical differences that make us unique, but to consider differences in our brains and how they work is so touchy?

More here.

From Science:

A small group of archaeologists is hoping to make a difference in one of the world’s most divisive conflicts. At a private gathering in Jerusalem yesterday, Israeli academics proposed a plan for divvying up antiquities and control of religious sites between Israel and Palestine when–and if–peace is ever achieved. The idea is to ease political negotiations by taking the controversial issue off the table. But some just learning of the plan are skeptical it will succeed where past efforts have failed.

At issue is control of archaeological sites and material. Since the 1967 War, Israelis have excavated extensively in the West Bank, removing artifacts to storage facilities controlled by the Israeli government. If a Palestinian state is ever created, the question is whether some or all of that material would be repatriated. For the past 5 years, Lynn Dodd and Ran Boytner, archaeologists at the University of Southern California and the University of California, Los Angeles, respectively, have worked on the plan in near secrecy, conferring with a small team of Israeli and Palestinian archaeologists. The two sides have never before “sat down to achieve a structured, balanced agreement to govern the region’s archaeological heritage,” says Dodd. “Our group got together with the vision of a future when people wouldn’t be at each other’s throats, and archaeology would need to be protected irrespective of which side of the border it falls on.”

The plan calls for a protective “Heritage Zone” around the oldest part of Jerusalem, extending to the city’s 10th century boundaries during the Crusades.

More here.

I’m not sure which of these characters (Theroux or Naipaul) is the more odious, but here, for your amusement, is Theroux’s attack on Sir Vidia in The Times of London:

After years of using prostitutes, the turning point in Naipaul’s life comes in 1972 when he finds a woman he desires: Margaret, whom he has met in Buenos Aires. She apparently refused to be interviewed for the book, but her archived love letters supply the missing narrative. They are rapturous, despairing, pleading, speaking of “his cruel sexual desires”. She acknowledges that he is her black master, that he regards his penis as a god, that she will worship it, abase herself.

This word “master”, used often in the letters, is interesting. It is a slave word. In role playing – and most of these love letters refer to highly eroticised power games – the master is regarded as dominant; but, paradoxically, it is usually the submissive person, the masochist, who has the ultimate power – maddening for the sadist.

Here is one instance. Margaret shows up unexpectedly in Wiltshire. Naipaul is displeased with her. He beats her and afterwards explains, “I was very violent with her for two days with my hand; my hand began to hurt . . . She didn’t mind at all. She thought of it in terms of my passion for her. Her face was bad. She couldn’t appear really in public. My hand was swollen.”

More here.

Those damn, dirty apes finally took their stinking paws off him.

Our own Morgan Meis in The Smart Set:

In The Ten Commandments DeMille wanted to tell “the greatest story ever told.” He tossed the actors out in handfuls and piled on the sets as if he himself could speak the word to material things, thus making them be. But the movie is dated. The techniques, from the acting to the camera work, are trapped in a pathetic no man’s land between the era of early filmmaking from which DeMille was spawned and the technologies and sensibilities of another generation. The only one who could hold it together was one of the cogs in the machine, a granite-faced man who looked like a statue become flesh. Heston is what is great about The Ten Commandments, not Cecil B. DeMille. DeMille’s next move, right after the movie was finished, was to die.

Now Charlton Heston is just as dead as DeMille. The sad part about it is that, like DeMille, he lingered too long past his time. He was a guest on Saturday Night Live in 1993. I remember watching the episode in a sustained cringe. Some of the sketches may even have been funny. But it was clear that he didn’t really know why they were funny. He wasn’t understanding the world around him anymore. He had the lost look of a grandparent confronted with something a little too new, a little too far past the framework of reference. It is analogous to the difference between his youthful and bold defense of the Civil Rights Movement in the early ’60s and his pitiful trumpeting of stale NRA rhetoric in old age.

That is a troubling thought. One benefit of getting old, we like to imagine, is the benefit of gaining wisdom. Experience is supposed to confer a kind of wizened capacity for judgment. You gain a sense not just for how things seem to work in the moment, but also for how they really work, how they’ve always worked. But that isn’t how it often goes. Cecil B. DeMille became a clown. Charlton Heston became a damn fool.

More here.

[Thanks to Mark Blyth.]

Pervez Hoodbhoy in Dawn:

GEN (retd) Pervez Musharraf, aided by his trusted lieutenant and chairman of the Higher Education Commission, Dr Atta-ur-Rahman, lays claim to a ‘revolutionary programme’ that has reversed the decades-old decline of Pakistan’s universities.

The higher education budget shot up from Rs3.9bn in 2001-02 to an astounding Rs33.7bn in 2006-07. But, in fact, much of this has been consumed by futile projects and mega wastage. Fantastically expensive scientific equipment, bought for research, often ends up locked away in campuses.

An example: a Pelletron accelerator worth Rs400m was ordered in 2005 with HEC funds. It eventually landed up at Quaid-i-Azam University, and was installed last month by a team of Americans from the National Electrostatics Corporation that flew in from Wisconsin. But now that it is there and fully operational, nobody — including the current director — has the slightest idea of what research to do with it. Its original proponents are curiously lacking in enthusiasm and are quietly seeking to distance themselves from the project.

Now for the full story: in his article published in Dawn (June 25, 2005), Dr Atta-ur-Rahman announced the HEC would fund a ‘5MW Tandem Accelerator’ for nuclear physics research with an associated laboratory at Quaid-i-Azam University. It was shocking news. First, nowhere in the world of science is a major project approved without a detailed technical feasibility study, and without full participation of those scientists who would be expected to use it for their research.

Second, this machine — whose original form dates back to the 1940s — had long become practically useless for decent nuclear physics research. Whereas it can still be used in certain narrow sub-areas of materials science and biology, to my knowledge there are almost no active researchers in those specialties anywhere in Pakistan.

Immediately upon reading Dr Atta-ur-Rahman’s article, I telephoned him. His answer: Dr. Riazuddin, director of the National Centre for Physics, had approved the machine. That was stunning! The soft-spoken and diffident Dr Riazuddin, at 77 years of age, is not only Pakistan’s best nuclear and particle physicist, but also a man of great integrity. How could he have agreed to such folly? Why did he sign a flaky PC-1 proposal put together in less than an afternoon?

More here.  [Scroll down to third article.]

Long before CDs and mp3s; in an analog age of vacuum tube amps and turntable needles the size if ten penny spikes, Peter Narvaez and I made music in a rockabilly band called Pete and Jimmy and the Ryhthm Knights.  Over the years I’ve wandered in and out of the music scene, but Peter stayed well in and married his love of blues to his second career teaching folklore at Memorial University in St. Johns, Newfoundland.  He also became a brilliant finger-style blues guitarist and harp player, and is a fine song-writer. 

Immediately following is a song by Peter, the sentiment of which anyone who’s spent spring in the fields and woods of the eastern U.S. will appreciate. 

Enjoy both the lyrics and videos of Black Fly Moan and Hoodoo Doctor performed by Peter last month on.Out of the Fog, a St. Johns cable show.

Black Fly Moan
Peter Narvaez

Well, down east when you’re plantin’ in the spring
Yeah down east when you’re plantin’ in the spring
Down east when you’re plantin’ your spuds in the spring
Well them black flies start their prancin’ on the wing.

They’re gonna swarm like a storm right into your ear
Yeah they’re gonna swarm like a storm into your ear
Yeah they’ll swarm like a storm right into your ear
Tell you stories that you never want to hear

(You got the black fly moan)

And always have your citronella there
I said always have your citronella there
Always have your citronella there
Keep them flies from tanglin’ in your hair

///

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