To a Sad Daughter
To a Sad Daughter
Michael Ondaate
……………

All night long the hockey pictures
gaze down at you

sleeping in your tracksuit.

Belligerent goalies are your ideal.

Threats of being traded

cuts and wounds

–all this pleases you.

O my god! you say at breakfast

reading the sports page over the Alpen

as another player breaks his ankle

or assaults the coach.
////////////////

When I thought of daughters

I wasn't expecting this

but I like this more.

I like all your faults

even your purple moods

when you retreat from everyone

to sit in bed under a quilt.

And when I say 'like'

I mean of course 'love'

but that embarrasses you.

You who feel superior to black and white movies

(coaxed for hours to see Casablanca)

though you were moved

by Creature from the Black Lagoon.
////////////////

One day I'll come swimming

beside your ship or someone will

and if you hear the siren

listen to it. For if you close your ears

only nothing happens. You will never change.

Read more »

From The Guardian:

Kindness was mankind's “greatest delight”, the Roman philosopher-emperor Marcus Aurelius declared, and thinkers and writers have echoed him down the centuries. But today many people find these pleasures literally incredible, or at least highly suspect. An image of the self has been created that is utterly lacking in natural generosity. Most people appear to believe that deep down they (and other people) are mad, bad and dangerous to know; that as a species – apparently unlike other species of animal – we are deeply and fundamentally antagonistic to each other, that our motives are utterly self-seeking and that our sympathies are forms of self-protectiveness.

Kindness – not sexuality, not violence, not money – has become our forbidden pleasure. In one sense kindness is always hazardous because it is based on a susceptibility to others, a capacity to identify with their pleasures and sufferings. Putting oneself in someone else's shoes, as the saying goes, can be very uncomfortable. But if the pleasures of kindness – like all the greatest human pleasures – are inherently perilous, they are none the less some of the most satisfying we possess.

In 1741 the Scottish philosopher David Hume, confronted by a school of philosophy that held mankind to be irredeemably selfish, lost patience. Any person foolish enough to deny the existence of human kindness had simply lost touch with emotional reality, Hume insisted: “He has forgotten the movements of his heart.” For nearly all of human history – up to and beyond Hume's day, the so-called dawn of modernity – people have perceived themselves as naturally kind. In giving up on kindness – and especially our own acts of kindness – we deprive ourselves of a pleasure that is fundamental to our sense of well-being.

More here.

From The New York Times:

Buzz has a whole new meaning now that scientists are giving bees cocaine. To learn more about the biochemistry of addiction, scientists in Australia dropped liquefied freebase cocaine on bees’ backs, so it entered the circulatory system and brain. The scientists found that bees react much like humans do: cocaine alters their judgment, stimulates their behavior and makes them exaggeratedly enthusiastic about things that might not otherwise excite them.

What’s more, bees exhibit withdrawal symptoms. When a coked-up bee has to stop cold turkey, its score on a standard test of bee performance (learning to associate an odor with sugary syrup) plummets. “What we have in the bee is a wonderfully simple system to see how brains react to a drug of abuse,” said Andrew B. Barron, a senior lecturer at Macquarie University in Australia and a co-leader in the bees-on-cocaine studies. “It may be that when we know that, we’ll be able to stop a brain reacting to a drug of abuse, and then we may be able to discover new ways to prevent abuse in humans.”

More here.

Mohammed al Hawajiri. Untitled.

More on this Palestinian artist here.

Joseph Massad on Israel's war on Gaza in Electronic Intifada:

While Hashemite-Zionist relations and Maronite Church-Zionist relations have always been known and documented, there has been less documentation of the services that Israel has provided and continues to provide to Arab regimes over the decades. It is now recognized that Israel's 1967 invasion of Egypt aimed successfully to destroy Gamal Abdul-Nasser, the enemy of all US dictatorial allies among the Arab regimes, whom the US and before it Britain and France had tried to topple since the 1950s but failed. Israel thus rendered a great service to Arab monarchies (and a few republics) from “the ocean to the Gulf,” whose survival was threatened by Nasser and Nasserism. Israel's subsequent intervention in Jordan in 1970 to help the Jordanian army destroy Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) guerrillas and its final crushing of that organization in its massive invasions of Lebanon in 1978 and 1982 were also important services it rendered to these same regimes threatened by the PLO's “revolutionary” potential and its sometimes recalcitrant positions. Israeli intelligence has also provided over the decades crucial information to several Arab regimes enabling them to crush their political opposition and strengthen their dictatorial rule. Prominent examples among recipients of Israeli intelligence largesse include the Moroccan and the Omani dictatorships.

Israel's services to Arab regimes continue apace.

In the Wall St. Journal (via delong):

Mr. Rajan, a professor at the University of Chicago's Booth Graduate School of Business, chose that moment to deliver a paper called “Has Financial Development Made the World Riskier?”

His answer: Yes.

He says he had planned to write about how financial developments during Mr. Greenspan's 18-year tenure made the world safer. But the more he looked, the less he believed that. In the end, with Mr. Greenspan watching from the audience, he argued that disaster might loom.

Incentives were horribly skewed in the financial sector, with workers reaping rich rewards for making money, but being only lightly penalized for losses, Mr. Rajan argued. That encouraged financial firms to invest in complex products with potentially big payoffs, which could on occasion fail spectacularly.

He pointed to “credit-default swaps,” which act as insurance against bond defaults. He said insurers and others were generating big returns selling these swaps with the appearance of taking on little risk, even though the pain could be immense if defaults actually occurred.

Mr. Rajan also argued that because banks were holding a portion of the credit securities they created on their books, if those securities ran into trouble, the banking system itself would be at risk. Banks would lose confidence in one another, he said: “The interbank market could freeze up, and one could well have a full-blown financial crisis.”

Two years later, that's essentially what happened.

Sean Carroll over at Cosmic Variance:

The Boltzmann Brain paradox is an argument against the idea that the universe around us, with its incredibly low-entropy early conditions and consequential arrow of time, is simply a statistical fluctuation within some eternal system that spends most of its time in thermal equilibrium. You can get a universe like ours that way, but you’re overwhelmingly more likely to get just a single galaxy, or a single planet, or even just a single brain — so the statistical-fluctuation idea seems to be ruled out by experiment. (With potentially profound consequences.)

The first invocation of an argument along these lines, as far as I know, came from Sir Arthur Eddington in 1931. But it’s a fairly straightforward argument, once you grant the assumptions (although there remain critics). So I’m sure that any number of people have thought along similar lines, without making a big deal about it.

One of those people, I just noticed, was Richard Feynman. At the end of his chapter on entropy in the Feynman Lectures on Physics, he ponders how to get an arrow of time in a universe governed by time-symmetric underlying laws.

So far as we know, all the fundamental laws of physics, such as Newton’s equations, are reversible. Then were does irreversibility come from? It comes from order going to disorder, but we do not understand this until we know the origin of the order. Why is it that the situations we find ourselves in every day are always out of equilibrium?

Feynman, following the same logic as Boltzmann, contemplates the possibility that we’re all just a statistical fluctuation.

Juan Cole in Informed Comment:

Samuel Huntington died on Christmas Eve. Lee Siegel in the NYT:

It was not always so. In the classical age, when wars lasted for many years, even decades, and technology evolved at a snail’s pace, historians like Thucydides and Polybius took a longer view. To them, no single historical event mattered more than any other. All unfolded within endlessly recurring cycles dominated by the deep currents of human nature. This view might seem archaic — yet its lessons remain relevant. Bernard Madoff is accused of bilking an estimated $50 billion from investors by executing the same scheme Charles Ponzi used in 1921. Wall Street’s financial “instruments” have undergone a revolution in the last nine decades, but people are driven by the same appetites — envy, greed, fear.

It was in the modern era, with its belief in human progress, that thinkers began to interpret the world in a different way — not as a record of human folly but rather as an enactment of changing or evolving historical forces.

From The New York Times:

Most writers take years to become themselves, to transform their preoccupations and inherited mannerisms into a personal style. For Franz Kafka, who was an exception to so many rules of life and literature, it took a single night. On Sunday, Sept. 22, 1912, the day after Yom Kippur, the 29-year-old Kafka sat down at his desk and wrote “The Judgment,” his first masterpiece, in one all-night session. “Only in this way can writing be done,” he exulted, “only with such coherence, with such a complete opening out of the body and the soul.”

Everyone who reads Kafka reads “The Judgment” and the companion story he wrote less than two months later, “The Metamorphosis.” In those stories, we already find the qualities the world would come to know as “Kafkaesque”: the nonchalant intrusion of the bizarre and horrible into everyday life, the subjection of ordinary people to an inscrutable fate. But readers have never been quite as sure what to make of the third major work Kafka began writing in the fall of 1912 ­— the novel he referred to as “Der Verschollene,” “The Missing Person,” which was published in 1927, three years after his death, by his friend and executor Max Brod, under the title “Amerika.” The translator Michael Hofmann, whose English version of the book appeared in 1996, correctly called it “the least read, the least written about and the least ‘Kafka’ ” of his three novels. Now Schocken Books, which has been the main publisher of Kafka’s works since the 1930s, hopes to reintroduce his first novel to the world with a new translation, by Mark Harman. “If approached afresh,” Harman promises in his introduction, “this book could bear out the early claim by . . . Brod that ‘precisely this novel . . . will reveal a new way of understanding Kafka.’ ”

More here.

14. Use the active voice.

Notice how aloof the passive voice is.

Your balls are to be slurped the most by cum-starved nymphos!!!!!

Hardly persuasive. The five exclamation points feel tacked on, an attempt by an inexperienced writer to breathe life into a desiccated construction. The active voice, however, allows you to write with verve and straightforwardness.

Cum-starved nymphos will slurp your balls the most!!!!!

16. Use definite, specific, concrete language.

Generalities enervate your writing; strong details invigorate it.

In short order, you'll notice enhanced length and girth.

What is meant by “short order”? A week? A month? The imprecision is suspicious. Further, avoid bankrupt modifiers such as enhanced. Rewrite with exactness.

more from McSweeney's here.

In The Know: Do You Remember Life Before The Segway?

The word “domesticity” gives me the vapors. Just the sight of a ball of yarn and knitting needles makes me have to lie down and fan myself for a while. A deeply neurotic part of my brain appears to equate learning how to sew a button with giving up my career, marrying a dentist, and moving to the suburbs to tend to little Basil and sweet Paprika. I am not afraid of spiders — I am afraid of needle and thread. It is a fear of turning into the type of woman that Christina Stead’s fictional Letty Fox described as “cave wives”: dull, stay-at-home types whose only topics of conversation are their new knitting projects, their children, or the interesting things their husbands said. I know that these women are mostly fictional stereotypes created by my own subconscious. Yet the fear still exists, and it is powerful.

more from The Smart Set here.

///
Autumn Unreadiness
Jim Crenner

Fifty swallows flocked along the wires
twitter frantically about the impending
journey south. On the lawn below,

a scattering of robins, glassy-eyed
from the summer's regimen of sex
and parenting, stagger about uncertainly,

heads cocked as if to keep one eye
on the sky and the other ear to the ground,
for that extra earthworm that could mean

the difference between making it across
the Rio Grande or not. Woolly-bear
caterpillars hump along doggedly,

wasps burrow into the earth, squirrels
hustle from larder to larder to larder—
everything in nature gripped by the urge

to make ready for the massive seasonal
die-off drawing near. Everything, that is,
but me. If ever found, the fieldnotes

of my Observer from Deneb will read
somewhat as follows: “The creature, now
concluding his sixty-ninth orbit of the star

he calls the Sun, evinces no awareness
that the coming winter prefigures his own
end. Today, as usual, he sits and stares

at either nothing, or the sheer passing
of this blue (quite lovely, I must say)
September afternoon on earth. He shows
…..
no inclination to put his life in order, as if
he has no clue that he will soon cease to be.
Or maybe knows it only too well.”

//

William Langewiesche in Vanity Fair:

There were so many opportunities for the accident not to happen—the collision between a Legacy 600 private jet and a Boeing 737 carrying 154 people. But on September 29, 2006, high above the Amazon, a long, thin thread of acts and omissions brought the two airplanes together. From the vantage point of the pilots, the Brazilian air-traffic controllers, and the Caiapó Indians, whose rain forest became a charnel house, the author reconstructs a fatal intersection between high-performance technology and human fallibility.

More here.

Pamela Constable in The Washington Post:

For the past week, caravans of cars have raced triumphantly around the Afghan capital, trailing huge green and red banners. Overpasses are draped with black cloth, and loudspeakers blare hypnotic religious chants punctuated with the slow rhythm of clanking chains.

This is Muharram, the 10-day period of ritual mourning — including emotional bouts of chest-beating and self-flagellation — observed by Shiites throughout the world in remembrance of Imam Hussein and other Shiite martyrs who died defending their faith in the 7th century.

But in Afghanistan, a Sunni-dominated country where Shiites have been a despised and oppressed minority during many periods of history, this Muharram is being observed with new boldness and political acceptance. It is a dramatic sign of the rapid emergence of Shiism under democratic rule in the seven years since the overthrow of the ultraconservative Sunni Taliban.

More here.

Daniel Hahn in The Guardian:

It's hard not to like a book that devotes several pages to the consistency of the inner core of a walrus tusk (“a rice-pudding pattern”, resembling cucumber seeds, since you ask). The passage in question appears in a long chapter digressing on the identity of the “khutu”, which might be a fish, a bull or a giant eastern bird-god, whose horn/beak/forehead is useful in the cutlery trade, and which is not to be confused with the karkadann, which is similar, but different.

The myth of the unicorn is filled with similar-but-different and unlikely (but often true) species, with plenty of misidentifications, misleading or mendacious sources and lies that turn out to be truths. It's a testimony to Chris Lavers's skilful deployment of his arguments that his dissection of this myth is neither baffling nor stiflingly crammed with technical supporting evidence to dull the reading; on the contrary, it is lively, compelling, full of anecdote, wry scepticism and an honest humility about the things it is simply impossible for us to know for certain. (How can we be sure that a cave-painting animal has only one horn and not two, when depicted in profile?)

The book, like its subject, is not quite one thing nor another, but a fascinating hybrid. For a start, this “natural history” is just that – a study that is attentive to the natural sciences, a scientific quest into the origins of a species with real, living relatives. Our imaginary, iconic, mythological beast has a lineage linking it to the real world, many times over.

More here.

From The Telegraph:

The smoke billowing over Gaza serves, among much else, as a bitter warning for Barack Obama. As Israel's onslaught on Hamas strongholds enters its second week, with key leaders of the radical Islamist movement now singled out as targets, the Holy Land is locked in a new spiral of conflict. Sewage from shattered mains runs in the streets of Gaza City, while tanks and infantry mass at the borders, preparing for a possible invasion. And the world's leaders are turning to the one man who they believe could break the cycle of retaliation and push Israel and the Palestinians into achieving a comprehensive peace agreement – President-Elect Obama.

With their love of acronyms, European diplomats pepper their documents with references to the “MEPP” – the Middle East Peace Process. They, and others, want the new president to place it first on his to-do list, to make this quest the number-one priority of his foreign policy. But look at the situation from Obama's point of view. The agony of Gaza, and of Israeli towns under attack from Palestinian rockets, drives home an uncomfortable truth: a viable peace agreement is almost certainly impossible, at least in the medium term. Safe in the knowledge that they will bear no responsibility for failure, European leaders can afford to urge Obama to pursue the “MEPP”. But why should the world's most powerful man waste effort on an enterprise that cannot succeed? Why should he risk almost certain failure?

Sir Nigel Sheinwald, the British Ambassador to Washington, provided a more realistic forecast of Obama's likely approach in a detailed assessment of the next president, leaked to The Daily Telegraph last year. “The MEPP is unlikely to be a top priority for Obama,” wrote Sir Nigel. “But he would pursue it reasonably vigorously.” As he ponders the issues, Obama will doubtless reflect on the searing experience of the last Democrat in the White House. Bill Clinton made the quest for a Middle East settlement a central theme of his presidency. Yet after eight years of diplomatic effort, he was driven to a rare confession of powerlessness.

More here.

Chris Hedges in Truthdig:

Editor’s note: In light of the recent fighting in Gaza, Truthdig asked Chris Hedges, who covered the Mideast for The New York Times for seven years, to update a previous column on Gaza.

Can anyone who is following the Israeli air attacks on Gaza—the buildings blown to rubble, the children killed on their way to school, the long rows of mutilated corpses, the wailing mothers and wives, the crowds of terrified Palestinians not knowing where to flee, the hospitals so overburdened and out of supplies they cannot treat the wounded, and our studied, callous indifference to this widespread human suffering—wonder why we are hated?

Our self-righteous celebration of ourselves and our supposed virtue is as false as that of Israel. We have become monsters, militarized bullies, heartless and savage. We are a party to human slaughter, a flagrant war crime, and do nothing. We forget that the innocents who suffer and die in Gaza are a reflection of ourselves, of how we might have been should fate and time and geography have made the circumstances of our birth different. We forget that we are all absurd and vulnerable creatures. We all have the capacity to fear and hate and love. “Expose thyself to what wretches feel,” King Lear said, entering the mud and straw hovel of Poor Tom, “and show the heavens more just.”

More here.

Laila al-Arian in The Nation: