Jessie Kindig at The Point:
Here is Transcendentalism at its best, my favorite part, running wild with the imitative impulse. Like the German Romantic thinkers of whom they were quite fond, New England’s transcendentalists sought a kinship between body and mind, between the rational and the passionate, between—as Goethe’s science writing began to chart—the patterns of nature and the patterns of the human body and soul. In his famous 1836 essay “Nature,” Emerson alluded to the “occult relation between man and the vegetable”; in Thoreau’s journal from 1840, he concluded, “So the forest is full of attitudes, which give it character. In its infinite postures I see my own erectness, or humbleness—or sneaking.”
As our veins branch so too do trees branch, as tides rise and ebb so too our blood beats; to accept nature is to become ourselves more fully, for already, we are of it. This was also a theology. Nature, Emerson says, is the route through which Man reaches God, because Nature is a metaphor for God. Nature is the tool and the occasion, Emerson says, not the revelation: “The world is emblematic. Parts of speech are metaphors, because the whole of nature is a metaphor of the human mind.” Maybe.
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America currently finds itself in
Anthe (ಅಂತೆ) is one of my favorite words in the Kannada language. Somewhat meaningless by itself, it adds so much nuance and emotion when appended to a sentence that we Kannadigas cannot carry on a conversation without using it. Depending on the context and the speaker’s tone, anthe can convey an expression of surprise or the understanding that gossip is being shared. It could mean “so it happened,” “that’s how it is,” “apparently,” or “it seems.” The latter comes closest to a direct translation, but is a frustratingly simple choice. Anthe will only ever half-heartedly migrate to English. Banu Mushtaq, whose short stories I have been translating recently, and whose “
Eitan Hersh: I think that the way that 95% of people who are engaged in politics are engaged is not really politics. It’s like if we imagine that all football fans were actually football players. Of about a third of the country that pays attention to politics, nearly all of them are just engaging for some sort of emotional connection or for intellectual gratification. They want to learn stuff. And they’re not building the right skills or getting the right knowledge for them to inform votes or activism. They’re just doing a totally different thing.
The great discoveries of humanity have always taught us that we are not masters in our own house: Copernicus removed the Earth from the centre of the cosmos, Darwin spoiled our species’ idea of divine creation, Freud showed that we neither know nor control our desires. The humiliation by AI is subtler but just as profound: we have demonstrated that for intellectual activities we considered deeply human, we are not needed; these can be automated on a statistical basis, the “idle talk”, to use Heidegger’s term, literally gets by without us and sounds reasonable, witty, superficial and sympathetic – and only then do we truly understand that it has always been like this: most of the time, we communicate on autopilot.
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Twisters, with a budget estimated at $200 million, is that enduring Hollywood paradox: the blockbuster that uses capitalism as shorthand for moral corruption. We know from the start that Javi’s business is compromised just by seeing its natty corporate graphics. (It would be interesting to know the costs for the logoed Twisters T-shirts worn by the ushers at the London premiere.)
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Each night, as the line that separates day from night sweeps across the face of the ocean, a vast wave of life rises from the ocean’s depths behind it. Made up of an astonishing diversity of animals—myriad species of minute zooplankton, jellyfish and krill, savage squid and a confusion of fish species ranging from lanternfish to viperfish and eels, as well as stranger creatures such as translucent larvaceans and snotlike salps—this world-spanning tide travels surfaceward to feed in the safety of the dark, before retreating to the depths again at dawn.
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ALARMINGLY,