Dance Russe

If when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely,
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,—
Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

by William Carlos Williams

Neil Larsen in Jacobin:

t’s now been a number of years since the term “decolonial,” together with its more activated verbal inflection, “decolonize,” have become familiar across popular and media culture, especially in connection with identity politics. Still another variant, “decoloniality,” joins these, though it is restricted to a narrower and more arcane academic lexicon. “Decolonization,” located at a middlebrow point of discursive insertion, has by now followed. Here, however, those with sufficient awareness, if not a residual memory of its historical context, will recognize in “decolonization” an older term with a distinct political resonance that can be traced considerably further back to the 1940s, ’50s, and ’60s, if not earlier, to the 1916 Easter Rising in Ireland and the 1919 Amritsar massacre in British-ruled India. Certainly, by the time of the historic 1955 Bandung Conference of relatively newly independent and henceforth (for a time) nonaligned former colonies in Asia and Africa, a term such as “decolonial” would have been indissolubly linked to contemporary anti-colonial national liberation movements and to the actual historical process of decolonization then roughly at its apogee, particularly in what remained of formal European colonialism in many parts of Asia and much of Africa.

More here.

Joelle M. Abi-Rached in Boston Review:

The face of the ongoing onslaught on Gaza has no doubt been Dr. Hammam Alloh, the thirty-six-year-old Palestinian nephrologist at northern Gaza’s Al-Shifa Hospital who refused to evacuate it when it was invaded by Israeli troops. “And if I go, who treats my patients?” he said in an October 31 interview. “We are not animals. We have the right to receive proper healthcare,” he added. Two weeks later, Alloh was killed by an Israeli airstrike, along with his father, brother-in-law, and father-in-law.

Alloh’s use of the word “animals” was certainly not lost on viewers. Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant had used that same language on October 9 when he announced a “complete siege” on Gaza, labeling its residents as “human animals.” Hamas’s attacks on October 7 would predictably generate a violent military reaction from Israel. But this Israeli campaign in Gaza, a strip of land where more than 80 percent of its population lived in poverty even before October 7, has been of a different character entirely than any previous ones. This onslaught has featured direct attacks on hospitals and the intentional undermining of the entire health care system: shelling, the killing and arresting of health care personnel, the direct and indirect killing of hundreds of patients, underprovision or complete lack of proper medical care, and unwarranted suffering for thousands of patients due to shortages in basic medications, water, food, and fuel. The attacks have made clear that the repression of Palestinian rights now has a new feature: the systematic destruction of the very institutions that sustain life.

More here.

Dylan Riley in Sidecar:

Du Bois’s relationship to Marxism has become a focus of considerable debate in US sociology; the stakes are at once intellectual and crypto-political. Some want to enroll Du Bois into the ranks of ‘intersectional theory’, a notion which holds that everything has exactly three causes (race, class, and gender), somewhat analogous to the way certain Weberians are dogmatically attached to a fixed set of ‘factors’ (ideological, economic, military, political). Others want to incorporate him into the tradition of Western Marxism and its signature problem of failed revolution. Broadly speaking, the first group tends to emphasize Du Bois’s earlier writings, thereby downplaying the influence of Marxism, while the second focuses on his later work, with its critiques of capitalism and imperialism and its reflections on the Soviet experiment.

But Du Bois’s masterwork, Black Reconstruction (1935), doesn’t fit either of these interpretations. The concept of ‘intersectionality’ appears nowhere, and there is no evidence that DuBois thought in these terms. Nor is Du Bois’s proletariat, or at least its most politically important part, the industrial working class; it is rather the family farmer, both in the West and the South, both black and white. Accordingly, his political ideal was ‘agrarian democracy’. He sometimes refers to those supporting this programme rather misleadingly as ‘peasant farmers’ or ‘peasant proprietors’, which might lead one to think that he is closer to ‘Populism’ in the Russian sense than to Marxism. But that too would be a misreading, for in his understanding the social foundation of democracy does not consist in a pre-capitalist village structure with collective ownership of land, but in a stratum of independent small holders (one that failed fully to appear in the South after the Civil War because of ferocious resistance by the plantocracy, which produced the amphibious figure of the share-cropper).

More here.

Brian Dillon at The Guardian:

“Exploded essays”, the poet, novelist and memoirist Lavinia Greenlaw calls the 17 pieces of almost-art-critical prose in this bright, mournful book. The phrase suggests a bristling diagram or enlarged view, an annotated arc of thought or feeling. But also something violently botched or ruined – don’t all essays worth the name aspire, more or less secretly, to blowing up their own form? In revisiting a lifetime of looking – at art, landscapes, weather, heavenly bodies, human faces and sometimes nothing at all – Greenlaw puts certain stark questions to herself and the things she looks at: “How do we make sense of what we see? How do we describe what we have never seen before?”

Her title comes from John Locke’s An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, published in 1689. But the wealth and vagrancy of Greenlaw’s interests seem to connect her to the earlier part of that busy century, and further back into the 16th: the time of the cabinet of curiosities.

more here.

Erica Ackerberg at the NYT:

For six months between 1965 and 1966, the German-born photographer Evelyn Hofer worked in Dublin, creating beautifully crafted portraits of the city and its people. Hofer took her time composing each shot, whether it captured a pair of housekeepers in brief repose or James Joyce’s death mask. The results were published in book form in 1967, to accompany an extended essay by V.S. Pritchett. Now, in DUBLIN (Steidl, $58), those images stand on their own to tell a thoughtful story of the city both in black-and-white and in quiet color.

Hofer, who died in Mexico City in 2009, was raised in Switzerland and Spain before settling in New York in 1946, where she contributed photo essays to Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue. In 1959, she began crafting literary portraits of cities, collaborating with Pritchett as well as Mary McCarthy and Jan (then James) Morris.

more here.

Isabella Cho in Harvard Magazine:

DURING A HISTORY seminar in my sophomore year, we opened class with a question derived from an assigned reading: What civic and political ills had made certain regions of Chicago sites of gang violence? We mulled the question for a few directionless minutes before a student raised her hand. Though I don’t remember what she said, I do remember that she prefaced the thought with, “As someone from the Chicago area….” She had lived there for 18 years. This phenomenon is common. It marks the moment in a classroom discussion, often a difficult or complex one, in which a student broaches a feature of her identity or lived experience that pertains to the topic at hand.

The Chicagoan’s viewpoint changed the dynamic of the conversation. Because she was the only person who identified as a long-time resident of the area, her perspective took on an air of heightened authority. I had wanted to advance a counterpoint, but now felt disinclined to do so. For one, it seemed that it would go against the authority of someone who had a deeper personal stake in the issue. Second, I thought that raising a counterpoint to the student’s perspective might be interpreted by my classmates not only as a challenge on intellectual grounds, but also as callous.

Neither are legitimate reasons to have withheld my comment. But I couldn’t help but feel both at that moment.

More here.

From Phys.Org:

Recording the activity of large populations of single neurons in the brain over long periods of time is crucial to further our understanding of neural circuits, to enable novel medical device-based therapies and, in the future, for brain–computer interfaces requiring high-resolution electrophysiological information. But today there is a tradeoff between how much high-resolution information an implanted device can measure and how long it can maintain recording or stimulation performances. Rigid, silicon implants with many sensors, can collect a lot of information but can’t stay in the body for very long. Flexible, smaller devices are less intrusive and can last longer in the brain but only provide a fraction of the available neural information.

Recently, an interdisciplinary team of researchers from the Harvard John A. Paulson School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS), in collaboration with The University of Texas at Austin, MIT and Axoft, Inc., developed a soft implantable device with dozens of sensors that can record single-neuron activity in the brain stably for months. The research was published in Nature Nanotechnology.

“We have developed brain–electronics interfaces with single-cell resolution that are more biologically compliant than traditional materials,” said Paul Le Floch, first author of the paper and former graduate student in the lab of Jia Liu, Assistant Professor of Bioengineering at SEAS. “This work has the potential to revolutionize the design of bioelectronics for neural recording and stimulation, and for brain–computer interfaces.”

More here.

A Star is Born

There was a pretty girl,
with a pretty voice
and true words
singing.

Please understand,
there was a pretty song
and pretty words,
a young girl’s voice.

To be plain,
I’m pretty sure
there was a girl
and a song
and ancient truth.

In case you wondered,
everything
beautiful and horrid
is contained
in this

and, no surprise,
I have always
been old.

Happy or sad, there is no
such thing
as time.

Only pretty girls
singing pretty songs
with all the pretty words

by Jeff Weddle
from Poetry Feast

Christopher Harding at Aeon Magazine:

For anyone who has seen or heard Watts at his best – courtesy, perhaps, of his podcast talks – ‘immeasurably alive’ is quite a good description of the man himself. It is easy to see how a basic understanding of God in these terms might have resonated with him. Watts also had moments when the sheer wonder of life around him made it feel as though it was not merely ‘there’, as brute fact, but was being poured out with extraordinary generosity. It seemed ‘given’, convincing Watts that there must be a giver and filling him with the desire to say ‘thank you’. He found backing for all of this in the writings of the 14th-century German theologian Meister Eckhart and the 6th-century Greek author Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite. It was there, too, in the ‘I-Thou’ thought of the modern Jewish philosopher Martin Buber.

more here.

Jori Lewis at Switchyard:

The air conditioner was malfunctioning. When I bought the car used in January, the owner said she had just fixed it, but here I was on a steamy August day on the Atlantic coast of Senegal, with the vents pouring hot air into the already hot car. So, it was my imminent dehydration talking when I skidded to a stop in front of a roadside fruit seller’s table. I was once told by a grandmother, who lives in my seaside village but grew up in the northern dry regions where the Senegal River winds across a crispy and prickly savanna not far from the great desert, about a watermelon varietal called beref, which is cultivated mostly for its seeds but also serves as a kind of water reserve.

“There’s water that you can drink from it like a coconut,” she said.

More here.

Tomas Pueyo in Uncharted Territories:

Why is giving birth so dangerous despite millions of years of evolution?
Why do humans only have one child per litter?
Why do human women menstruate?
Why does it take us so long to become adults?
Why are there so many stories about evil stepparents?
Why are partners chosen in arranged marriages different from those in love marriages?
Why are parents of small children so tired?

These and many other questions can be answered by realizing that family members are at war.

More here.

Nicholas Kristof in the New York Times:

“If China takes Taiwan, they will turn the world off, potentially,” Donald Trump told Fox News recently, apparently referring to a potential seizure of one company that is central to, well, pretty much everything. Indeed, it’s arguably the most important company in the world.

The company Trump alluded to, Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company, or T.S.M.C., is the only corporation I can think of in history that could cause a global depression if it were forced to halt production.

These days it seems impossible to have a conversation about geopolitics or economics without coming back to T.S.M.C., which makes about 90 percent of the world’s most advanced chips.

More here.

Mark Krotov and Thomas de Monchaux at n+1:

DE MONCHAUX: In the mid-1960s, Ed Ruscha and his close friend, the Canadian-turned-Californian architect Frank Gehry, used to hang out at the fashionable clubs and bars on the Sunset Strip. One of the many documentary materials that the MoMA survey directs you to on your phone is a quick interview with the latter about the former. “It was the highlight of Hollywood nightlife,” says Gehry of the Strip. “Ed was curious to document it, and he made a book about it. It’s very cool the way he represented it. There was no emotion about what goes on in there. It was just, look at the Hollywood strip, the Sunset Strip. There it is. It’s a bunch of stupid buildings. . . . We all got copies. I still have that in my library somewhere.” Every Building on the Sunset Strip, a 1966 pamphlet, was initially self-published in an edition of one thousand. It folds out, accordion-style, from a trim size of 7×5 5/8 inches x 3/8 inches thick to a satisfying length of 24 feet, 11 1/2 inch when open. Along the top of the pages runs in black and white a continuous horizontal panorama of all the buildings on the north side of the two and a half miles of the Strip. Along the bottom of the pages runs in black and white a continuous horizontal panorama of all the buildings on its south side. “I felt like [Sunset Boulevard] should be recorded with no prejudice, with no agenda, and no moral,” says 2023 Ed Ruscha, in MoMA material also available on your phone.

more here.