In The New York Time Book Review, Richard Rorty reviews Marc D. Hauser’s Moral Minds:How Nature Designed Our Universal Sense of Right and Wrong.

We need, Hauser says, a “radical rethinking of our ideas on morality, which is based on the analogy to language.” But the analogy seems fragile. Chomsky has argued, powerfully if not conclusively, that simple trial-and-error imitation of adult speakers cannot explain the speed and confidence with which children learn to talk: some special, dedicated mechanism must be at work. But is a parallel argument available to Hauser? For one thing, moral codes are not assimilated with any special rapidity. For another, the grammaticality of a sentence is rarely a matter of doubt or controversy, whereas moral dilemmas pull us in opposite directions and leave us uncertain. (Is it O.K. to kill a perfectly healthy but morally despicable person if her harvested organs would save the lives of five admirable people who need transplants? Ten people? Dozens?)

Hauser hopes that his book will convince us that “morality is grounded in our biology.” Once we have grasped this fact, he thinks, “inquiry into our moral nature will no longer be the proprietary province of the humanities and social sciences, but a shared journey with the natural sciences.” But by “grounded in” he does not mean that facts about what is right and wrong can be inferred from facts about neurons. The “grounding” relation in question is not like that between axioms and theorems. It is more like the relation between your computer’s hardware and the programs you run on it. If your hardware were of the wrong sort, or if it got damaged, you could not run some of those programs.

Knowing more details about how the diodes in your computer are laid out may, in some cases, help you decide what software to buy. But now imagine that we are debating the merits of a proposed change in what we tell our kids about right and wrong. The neurobiologists intervene, explaining that the novel moral code will not compute. We have, they tell us, run up against hard-wired limits: our neural layout permits us to formulate and commend the proposed change, but makes it impossible for us to adopt it. Surely our reaction to such an intervention would be, “You might be right, but let’s try adopting it and see what happens; maybe our brains are a bit more flexible than you think.”

From The New York Times:

Claire Messud is a novelist of unnerving talent. Her first three books — two novels and a pair of novellas — deftly evoke the lives and mores of radically different characters and locales, from an aging Holocaust survivor in Canada to a young woman coming of age on the southern coast of France. Until recently, though, she may have seemed something of a writer’s writer — a crafter of artful books praised more for their “literary intelligence” and “near-miraculous perfection” than for their sweeping social relevance. Now, in “The Emperor’s Children,” her splendid new novel, she has produced a formally nimble novel of formidable scale. Set mostly in New York City at the turn of the 21st century, “The Emperor’s Children” is a masterly comedy of manners — an astute and poignant evocation of hobnobbing glitterati in the months before and immediately following Sept. 11.

More here.

From The London Times:

Books selects the titles that everyone will be talking about this autumn and gives you the lowdown on them.

MARTIN AMIS: House of Meetings
What’s the story? Set in the USSR between the end of the Second World War and Stalin’s death, this short novel follows two brothers, held in a labour camp above the Arctic Circle, in love with the same girl.
The background Amis is interested in Communism — his father was once a Communist, and he wrote about Stalin in his nonfiction book Koba the Dread. A Soviet prison camp, then, might prove more fertile subject matter for a novel than the macho violence of his much-reviled Yellow Dog.
Cape says “Amis at the height of his powers.”
We say Left off the Man Booker longlist, perhaps too short to qualify, this is nevertheless a strong contender to be the literary novel of the year.

More here.

[Photo of Secret Society by Lindsay Beyerstein.]

This year at our ball, 3QD is very proud to feature:

Darcy James Argue conducting Secret Society

Secret Society is a dynamic new big band featuring Darcy’s original works. It is also a showcase for singular, exciting soloists like trumpeter Ingrid Jensen, saxophonists Donny McCaslin and Will Vinson, and pianist Mike Holober. Secret Society is a forward-looking ensemble, influenced by contemporary big bands like the Maria Schneider Orchestra and the John Hollenbeck Large Ensemble, but also atmospheric indie bands like Broken Social Scene and Calexico, and adventurous new music ensembles like Eighth Blackbird and Anti-Social Music. Secret Society made their New York debut at the CBGB Lounge on May 29, 2005, playing to a large and enthusiastic audience, and continue to draw listeners and create a buzz everywhere they perform.

In addition to Secret Society and Pulse, Darcy’s music has been performed by the BMI New York Orchestra, the Eastman New Jazz Ensemble, the NEC Jazz Composers Orchestra, the McGill Jazz Orchestra, and ensembles of the Peabody Conservatory.

“Argue is a stunningly skilled bandleader who steers an ensemble stocked fat with exceptional players […]. Argue’s charts serve notice of a sophisticated composer, one who knows his Stravinsky and Ligeti as well as his Bob Graettinger and Thad Jones. I look forward to hearing more from this band.” — Steve Smith, Associate Music Editor, Time Out NY

“Darcy James Argue’s big band skillfully realizes the leader’s mature, emotive compositions and thick arrangements.” — Hank Shteamer, Time Out NY

“Darcy James Argue has developed an experimental yet accessible voice as a composer… his gifts are outstanding.” — Bob Brookmeyer

Much more information about Darcy and Secret Society can be found here.

In addition, there will be hors d’oeuvres/drinks/dancing/DJs and more.

Also, light food from the divine Jackson Heights restaurant Kebab King will be available.

Place:   Flux Factory

Date:    Saturday, August 26, 2006

Time:   9:00 pm

Dress:  White (wear anything that is white, even a scarf; not formal)

Cover:  Five dollars

RSVP:  In the comments to this post

Please consider helping us make this event possible by making a small donation.
(There is a “Make a Donation” button at the top of the right-hand column.)

See you, and thanks!

Rashid Khalidi in the Chicago Tribune:

Hezbollah’s rocket attacks on Israel, initially condemned by some Lebanese, are now seen as a justified response to Israel’s offensive against Lebanon. For the Lebanese, the fact that most of their casualties were civilians, a third of them children, and that the bombing has created a million refugees, severely damaged the environment and systematically destroyed the country’s infrastructure–from bridges and power plants to airports, milk factories and lighthouses–substantiates this belief.

The idea that this or any other Lebanese government will act against Hezbollah after the fighting ends is therefore perfect fantasy. The “successes” of American and French diplomacy over the last year in driving a wedge between Lebanese and isolating Hezbollah, a futile exercise in any case, have gone up in the smoke of Israeli air raids on every part of Lebanon.

In their place is bitter anger at the United States, which has once more shown that neither Lebanese democracy nor Arab civilian casualties, nor anything else in the Arab world, counts in American calculations when Israel’s perceived interests (and President Bush’s “war on terror”) are at stake.

More here.

Eric Homberger in The Independent:

Greil Marcus, reigning top banana of American rock critics, has stories to tell about the collision of restless musical innovation with a greedy recording industry doing its level best to suck creativity dry, and make money doing so. That David and Goliath story has simplified our understanding of rock, and Marcus rejects it. Rather, he has been obsessed by more complex moments of confrontation, such as Bob Dylan’s appearance at the Newport Folk Festival in 1963.

As he vividly told it in Invisible Republic: Bob Dylan’s Basement Tapes, Dylan walked on stage with a Fender Stratocaster, and the shocked audience booed. Backstage, his friends were thinking that this was a lynch-mob. In England, Dylan was accused of being a Judas. With an electronic guitar in his hand, Dylan’s back turned towards the audience felt like an act of betrayal.

Coinciding with the early stages of the civil rights movement, the folk revival of the early 1960s saw itself as a crusade for national renewal. In an America reeling from assassinations and racial violence, the songs of the people, especially poor black people in the rural south, possessed a redeeming moral force. Electronic guitars embodied the big-money, high-technology corporate world that repeatedly strangled the authentic voice of the people.

More here.  [Photo shows Greil Marcus.]

Alan Riding in the New York Times:

Some old masters made a point of including the faces of fellow artists and patrons in the crowds portrayed in large oil paintings. Pablo Picasso paid similar homage to a more unusual friend: a self-assured little dachshund called Lump.

Yes, that’s Lump at the bottom of the canvas in Picasso’s multiple reinterpretations of Velázquez’s masterpiece “Las Meninas.” Gone is the somnolently regal hound of the original. In its place is, well, a sausage with four short legs and two pointed ears.

Picasso painted 44 studies in his “Meninas” series between Aug. 17 and Dec. 30, 1957 — and Lump appears in 15 of them.

More here.

What do 2001: A Space Odyssey, Annie Hall, and Raiders of the Lost Ark have in common? Great opening shots. And film critic Jim Emerson has a blog dedicated to them. This is Nareg Torosian on the opening shot of Punch-Drunk Love:

As described on the DVD’s back cover, the focal point of the movie is Barry Egan, “a socially impaired owner of a small novelty business, who…is unlikely to find love unless it finds him.” On the surface, nothing much happens during the handheld shot that begins the movie, but for this first minute and a half, Anderson is able to set up three crucial elements for the rest of the film:

1. Barry’s loneliness. The set is about as sparse as can be – one desk and one chair in the corner of a large, unadorned, warehouse-like room. No one else will enter the frame, and other than the voice on the other end of the telephone, no other sound can be heard. (A metallic ping that breaks the silence will attract Barry’s attention and cause him to leave, thus creating a bridge to the film’s next shot. Jon Brion’s lush, atmospheric score/soundscape will not come to play for several minutes.) Anderson shoots the sequence in a long shot, and the resulting amount of empty, indifferent space conveys the character’s sense of isolation and emotional distance; this composition is mirrored later when Barry calls the phone sex service in his apartment and when he calls Lena from a pay phone in Hawaii. Even the first spoken line (“Yes, I’m still on hold”) subtly hints at his feeling of emotional repression and arrested development.

More here.

Jeffrey Freymann-Weyr at NPR:

Edward Tufte has been described by The New York Times as “The Leonardo da Vinci of Data.” Since 1993, thousands have attended his day-long seminars on Information Design. That might sound like a dry subject, but with Tufte, information becomes art.

Tufte’s most recent book, Beautiful Evidence, is filled with hundreds of illustrations from the worlds of art and science. It contains historical maps and diagrams as well as contemporary charts and graphs. In one chapter alone, there’s an 18th-century depiction of how to do a cross-section drawing of how a bird’s wing works, and photos from a 1940s instruction book for skiing.

They all demonstrate one concept: Good design is timeless, while bad design can be a matter of life and death.

More here.

From the Library of Congress website:

Welcome to the Web site for the 2006 National Book Festival! The festival, which will be held on September 30, is organized and sponsored by the Library of Congress and hosted by Laura Bush. It is free and open to the public and features more than 70 award-winning authors, illustrators and poets appearing in “Fiction & Fantasy,” “Mysteries & Thrillers,” “History & Biography,” “Children,” “Teens & Children,” “Poetry,” and “Home & Family” pavilions. Browse this Web site to learn about the authors who will be appearing throughout the day in the pavilions and signing their books.

More here.  [Thanks to Rachelle Lacroix.]

From the blog “Jon Swift“:

Not only are scientists responsible for bad things like the Holocaust, they are always trying to scare us about bad things that don’t exist like global warming. Frankly, it’s a wonder scientists have any credibility at all considering how they are always trying to terrify us with alerts of threats that don’t pan out and lying about things that turn out not to exist. Only a scientific dead-ender could think that anything scientists say should be believed. I’m glad the Bush Administration has done something about it, fighting the War on Science with the same fervor it has brought to the War on Terror and the War in Iraq and all of the other wars it has declared.

Now that two of my least favorite subjects in school, science and history, are dead, I’m hoping that the Bush Administration will redouble its efforts to kill off two other subjects I didn’t much care for, Math and Geography. While important strides have been made, I still think more can be done to send Math and Geography to the dustbin of History, which, course, has itself been sent to the dustbin of . . . something else, I guess. I’m not ready to declare victory until our schools are teaching only two subjects: Religion and Gym.

More here.

Ali Eteraz at his eponymous blog:

The editor of a leading Pakistani think-tank advocating equity, fairness and gender equality in Pakistan’s Islamic Laws has been shot in the mouth. The Daily Times reports:

LAHORE: Al-Mawrid Research Institute’s monthly magazine Ishraq’s editor Manzoor-ul-Hassan was shot on Wednesday night by unidentified men in front of the Al-Mawrid building in Model Town Extension, sources told Daily Times.

Hassan was walking alone in front of the building at around 9pm on Wednesday night when two unidentified men on a motorcycle shot him in the mouth. Hassan survived but is reportedly in a critical condition.

As we speak, as you sit in your chair, connected to the vast outside world something immense, and like all immense things, something uncontrollable, is happening in Pakistan. The setting is a combustible South Asian nation. The battle is for the equality of Muslim women and simple human dignity. The war within the Law of God has become a war between Violence and Reason. One speaks with the authority of bullets and flame; the other through the authority of pamphlet and humility.

More here.

From Harvard Magazine:

At noon on November 16, 1938, some 500 Harvard and Radcliffe students jammed Emerson Hall to express their outrage at Kristallnacht, as the Nazis sarcastically dubbed the pogrom in Germany and Austria that had littered the streets with broken glass. But that lunch-time gathering turned out to be much more than a student protest meeting. Besides starting an initiative that eventually brought 14 young refugees from Germany, Austria, and Czechoslovakia to study at Harvard—and two refugees, in a parallel effort, to Radcliffe—it gave rise, with astonishing speed, to a national grassroots movement that helped hundreds of persecuted Central European students find refuge and education at colleges and universities across the United States. Though now largely forgotten, the humanitarian effort that emanated from Harvard highlights a tectonic change among many students at the time—from ivory-tower existence to social activism. And the story also illuminates a gradual transformation of Harvard and other leading colleges: from institutions that educated mainly the children of the elite to institutions that prized scholarly excellence. Now, as the generation of activists who led that effort is passing from the scene, it seems worthwhile to recall their story, especially as today’s students consider engaging in larger issues—among them, again, immigration.

More here.

From Nature:

Pluto has been kicked out of our Sun’s planetary family by astronomers who voted today to define a planet by three criteria. It failed on one of them. Astronomers have been battling over the concept of what defines a planet all week at the general assembly of the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in Prague. In the end it was decided that to qualify as a planet in orbit around our Sun, a chunk of rock must have been made round by its own gravity; have cleared its neighbourhood of other debris; and not be a satellite of another planetary body.

Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Uranus and Neptune all fulfil these criteria. But Pluto is just one of many bits of icy debris in orbit at the edge of our Solar System, known as trans-neptunian objects. Pluto’s membership of the trans-neptunians disqualifies it from being a fully fledged planet because it has not ‘cleared its orbit’.

More here.

Grass’ many defenders have not asked themselves the question that needs to be posed, which is: Has he at last decided to appeal to the new German readership that is, so to say, a bit fed up with hearing about how dreadful the Nazis were? If this admittedly rather cynical suggestion has any merit, then at least his recent boring writings and operatic confessions would, in combination, make perfect sense. But they would also make absolute nonsense of his previous career as a literary policeman and a patroller of the line of taboo. “Let those who want to judge, pass judgment,” Grass said last week in a typically sententious utterance. Very well, then, mein lieber Herr. The first judgment is that you kept quiet about your past until you could win the Nobel Prize for literature. The second judgment is that you are not as important to German or to literary history as you think you are. The third judgment is that you will be remembered neither as a war criminal nor as an anti-Nazi hero, but more as a bit of a bloody fool.

more from Hitchens at Slate here.

When I Showed Him Pictures of Europe

ME: Do you know why people like to travel?

HIM: I’m silly travel! Silly travel!

ME: You’re what?

HIM: I was in the sky then. Watching you in England and France. And the Paris light that fell on a tired literary landmark and made you melancholy is the same light that is fueling me. You stood in gardens where your grandfather stood before hitting that fucking beach at Normandy. But what have you done, really? I can turn you inside out with one phrase: What have you done since 2003? Do you feel the sting of it? The reckoning is coming.

ME: Do you like SpongeBob? Is SpongyBobby silly?

HIM: (Silence.)

more from McSweeney’s here.

The curious and often contentious relationship between artists and critics has a long, if not always noble, history. That’s as it should be. Friction between practice and opinion is inevitable. Sometimes it can shed light; often it prompts comedy, intentional and otherwise. The critic has been the target of some deliciously caustic works of art. Hell hath no fury—or insight—like an artist scorned. Just ask Honoré Daumier. A collection of artworks in which the critic is the main focus (or the butt of the joke) would make a delightful and, one would think, instructive exhibition. And if an enterprising curator or art historian were to put together such a show, a Rembrandt etching called Satire on Art Criticism would merit a prominent place. Few artists have plumbed the depths of the human animal as sympathetically as Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)—but his sympathy had its limits, at least when it came to art critics. In Satire on Art Criticism (1644), the critic is seen on the street looking at a picture and surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. He has donkey ears, and entwined on his arm is a snake—heavy-handed symbols of stupidity and envy.

more from The Observer here.

In The New York Times:

Evolutionary biology has vanished from the list of acceptable fields of study for recipients of a federal education grant for low-income college students.

The omission is inadvertent, said Katherine McLane, a spokeswoman for the Department of Education, which administers the grants. “There is no explanation for it being left off the list,” Ms. McLane said. “It has always been an eligible major.”

Another spokeswoman, Samara Yudof, said evolutionary biology would be restored to the list, but as of last night it was still missing.

If a major is not on the list, students in that major cannot get grants unless they declare another major, said Barmak Nassirian, associate executive director of the American Association of Collegiate Registrars and Admissions Officers. Mr. Nassirian said students seeking the grants went first to their college registrar, who determined whether they were full-time students majoring in an eligible field.

From Eureka Alert:

University of Washington researchers have succeeded in building a cooling device tiny enough to fit on a computer chip that could work reliably and efficiently with the smallest microelectronic components.

The device, which uses an electrical charge to create a cooling air jet right at the surface of the chip, could be critical to advancing computer technology because future chips will be smaller, more tightly packed and are likely to run hotter than today’s chips. As a result, tomorrow’s computers will need cooling systems far more efficient than the fans and heat sinks that are used today.

“With this pump, we are able to integrate the entire cooling system right onto a chip,” said Alexander Mamishev, associate professor of electrical engineering and principal investigator on the project. “That allows for cooling in applications and spaces where it just wasn’t realistic to do before.” The micro-pump also represents the first time that anyone has built a working device at this scale that uses this method, Mamishev added.

Also in the Bullentin of the Atomic Scientist, Josh Schollmeyer on using video games to instruct about war, peace, genocide, democracy and dictatorship, and political ethics.

[I]n Pax Warrior, a blend of documentary film and game that places high school and college students in the role of the head U.N. peacekeeper during the 1994 Rwandan genocide, “winning” is relative. No player stops the genocide. Hamstrung by the same historical constraints that faced Lt. Gen. Roméo Dallaire, the actual commander of the U.N. peacekeeping mission to Rwanda at the time, the students try to save as many lives as possible given the circumstances. “Pax teaches you how good intentions are not enough,” says Andreas Ua’Siaghail, the game’s co-creator. “It tests an individual’s valor in a historical context.”

That’s partly the value of serious games–to allow users to fail again and again without real-world repercussions–what Rejeski calls “failing softly.” It’s why the U.S. military understands the utility of games so intuitively. The military reasons that if soldiers lose fake lives in simulations, it better hones their ability to survive on the real battlefield. Similar thinking is now taking hold in firehouses, police stations, and hospitals–the frontlines in the event of a natural disaster or terrorist attack.