Tiny Houses

Vauhini Vara at The Believer:

And yet the most surprising aspect of the tiny-house phenomenon might be that, while the lifestyle has never been more visible, real-life tiny-house dwellers are hard to find. Fewer than ten thousand of the homes are estimated to exist nationwide. The impracticalities of tiny living—shoebox-sized sinks, closetless rooms—can be daunting, but it’s not only that. There are also legal obstacles. In most states, houses built on a foundation must be at least 400 square feet. To get around that, builders have taken to putting tiny houses on wheels and building them to the less restrictive codes that apply to RVs. But many states and cities bar RVs from being parked in one place year-round. Also, when you buy a tiny house, the house is all you get; you have to either buy the land to put it on, use someone else’s for free, or find a landlord willing to lease land to you.

Around the time of LaBarre and Fredell’s entrepreneurial gambit, the discrepancy between the realities of tiny living and its on-screen representations had generated a great deal of confusion. Inspired by HGTV and Pinterest, people would set out to buy tiny houses, only to learn that tiny living, in the real world, is supremely hard.

more here.



The Reluctant Leader of Spain’s Literary Avant-Garde

Thomas Bunstead at The Paris Review:

In June 2007, in Seville, Spain, a conference was held under the banner “New Fictioneers: The Spanish Literary Atlas.” Around forty writers and critics came together at the Andalusian Center for Contemporary Art to discuss the conservatism they felt to be suffocating their national literature. United in their belief that the Spanish novel in particular was in a bad state, they pointed to a disregard for the increasing centrality of digital media in people’s lives and a knee-jerk resistance to anything that smacked of formal experimentation. They were mostly of a similar age, born in the twilight of the Franco regime, committed to the DIY punk ethos of the fledgling blogosphere, and more likely to claim lineage to J. G. Ballard or Jean Baudrillard than any garlanded compatriots of their own. Nonetheless, the only true point of agreement on the day was that they were not part of a unified movement. The conference’s inaugural address itself rejected any suggestion of a coherent generation—a commonplace criticism familiar in Spain ever since the clumping together, at the end of the nineteenth century, of the Generation of ’98. Within a few weeks, however, an article appeared dubbing these writers “The Nocilla Generation”: the most significant literary phenomenon of Spain’s democratic era now had a label, and it stuck.

more here.

Thinking about Petrarch

Charles Nicholl at the LRB:

Complexities of interpretation are food and drink to Petrarchan scholars, and Christopher Celenza tucks into them with quiet determination in his short life-and-works overview, Petrarch: Everywhere a Wanderer. The subtitle is taken from one of Petrarch’s verse letters, where he describes himself as ‘peregrinus ubique’ (more precisely translated as ‘everywhere a pilgrim’). He was indeed a restless traveller. We find him in Avignon, Montpellier, Lombez, Paris, Ghent, Liège, Basel and Prague, as well as all over Italy. A learned marginalium suddenly becomes a snapshot when he apologises for his handwriting – he’s writing while on a boat. But the peregrination he describes is more a metaphysical restlessness, as he moves among different interests, disciplines, languages and political allegiances; between different versions of himself – a man of no fixed abode, ‘without earth or sky to call his own’. This also has a bearing on exile. His father was of the conservative or ‘white’ wing of the Guelph party, whose members opposed papal influence, and (like Dante, whom he knew) had been banished from Florence in 1302; Petrarch was born two years later in Arezzo and spent his boyhood and youth in Provence. ‘A sense of exile,’ Celenza says, ‘permeated Petrarch’s psychology’ and ‘inflected his writing’. It also, paradoxically, fostered in him an early sense of ‘Italianness’, in place of the regional identity denied him by exile.

more here.

Tuesday Poem

Myth of Trailer Bride Cicada

Lie flat on your back for ten days, kudzu
starts at your feet, devours you.

We have our own mythology. Gods in the South small enough
to fit into a soda bottle. Smaller than the atom.

Smaller than the freckles in your eye.
Smaller than the nubs of your teeth.

Small enough to shed your skin for skin of damned dogs.
Of snakes. To be lifted off a ladder in a backyard wrestling pit,

crashing to the earth, wings fused into your body. The mythology
of a broken body means no shit work for a while.

Means a check for every month,
cash straight into your body like

oxygen sucked from broken marrow.
Tell us again the story of the trailer bride, who turned into a cicada.

Screamed her tiny wings together as her husband removed
antlers from a buck. Played dirges on his saw, each note bent,

breaking timbres against the animal’s warm body.
Tell us the story of the young hicks who were copping,

and found their way into the backwoods.
And the mountains begged to be put back together.

And the shit jobs never returned, and the hicks never got straight.
The bride with her breast placed to her child’s lips, tell me how a howl

becomes a dumbing, endless hum, how a child can grow a silver crown,
head shaved the next morning,

flakes of silver petals thick enough for feet to disappear,
thick enough for sprouted wings to fan patterns on a pleated linoleum floor.

A bruise on the face slowly heals. A split lip has time to be sewn shut. Your
wings itch like phantom
limbs from a phantom body.

by Liam Hysjulien’s
from Bodega Magazine, August 21014

Zora Neale Hurston’s letter to the Orlando Sentinel, 1955

From BlackPast:

I promised God and some other responsible characters, including a bench of bishops, that I was not going to part my lips concerning the U.S. Supreme Court decision on ending segregation in the public schools of the South. But since a lot of time has passed and no one seems to touch on what to me appears to be the most important point in the hassle, I break my silence just this once. Consider me as just thinking out loud.

The whole matter revolves around the self-respect of my people. How much satisfaction can I get from a court order for somebody to associate with me who does not wish me near them? The American Indian has never been spoken of as a minority and chiefly because there is no whine in the Indian. Certainly he fought, and valiantly for his lands, and rightfully so, but it is inconceivable of an Indian to seek forcible association with anyone. His well known pride and self-respect would save him from that. I take the Indian position.

Now a great clamor will arise in certain quarters that I seek to deny the Negro children of the South their rights, and therefore I am one of those “handkerchief-head niggers” who bow low before the white man and sell out my own people out of cowardice. However an analytical glance will show that that is not the case. If there are not adequate Negro schools in Florida, and there is some residual, some inherent and unchangeable quality in white schools, impossible to duplicate anywhere else, then I am the first to insist that Negro children of Florida be allowed to share this boon. But if there are adequate Negro schools and prepared instructors and instructions, then there is nothing different except the presence of white people.

More here. (Note: Throughout February, we will publish at least one post dedicated to Black History Month)

Monday, February 4, 2019

Why a pragmatist defense of truth is useful

by Dave Maier

A contemporary truism, ironically enough, is that we now live in a “post-truth” era, as attested by a number of recent books with that or similar titles, related by their authors with varying degrees of chagrin. We all know the ultimate, or at least proximate, source of this concern: that fount of untruth which is Donald Trump’s Twitter feed (with a side of Brexitmania for those across the pond). Even among his supporters – and this is indeed, I think, the most charitable interpretation of the phenomenon in question – Mr. Trump is, as his aide Ms. Conway has put it, best taken “seriously but not literally.” That is, he is not particularly concerned with whether what he says is true, but instead with its effect on his readers and listeners, friendly or hostile.

I’m not going to defend this attitude toward truth-telling, which has become known, thanks to philosopher Harry Frankfurt, as “bullshitting,” and in fact dates back to the ancients, when Plato’s Socrates criticized what were called “sophists” for similar attitudes. However, it does seem that some of today’s self-appointed defenders of truth can paint their targets with an excessively broad brush. Naturally there is a lot of complaining about “postmodernist skepticism about truth,” but since most of our writers are not philosophers, their somewhat vague griping is hard to evaluate. (Michiko Kakutani, for example, clearly doesn’t like Derrida; but that’s just about all I got out of what she said.) But I’m not here to defend postmodernism any more than I am to defend “alternative facts.”  Read more »

Radical Centrism: Lincoln at Cooper Union

by Michael Liss

“He knew the American people better than they knew themselves, and his truth was based upon this knowledge.” —Frederick Douglass, Oration in Memory of Abraham Lincoln, April 14, 1876

In October of 1859, Abraham Lincoln received an invitation to come to New York to deliver a lecture at the Abolitionist minster Henry Ward Beecher’s Plymouth Congregational Church in Brooklyn.  

Although Lincoln was, at this time, largely a regional figure among Republicans, and held no public office, the invitation was not accidental. The party was still a bit like a Rube Goldberg contraption, made up of pieces (former Whigs, Know-Nothings, disaffected Northern Democrats) that didn’t all quite fit together. People of influence, notably the newspaper publishers William Cullen Bryant and Horace Greeley, knew the new movement needed a coherent, inclusive platform, and an articulate, attractive man to lead it.

They weren’t, by any means, anointing Lincoln—in fact, they had no idea what he could do. He had acquitted himself well in his 1858 Senate race against Stephen Douglas, the presumed 1860 Democratic Presidential nominee, but he had also lost. There were other questions as well: Would a person some described as a “backwoodsman” play in front of a New York audience?

What was obvious was that the most likely Republican candidates for the nomination were either flawed or disliked, or flawed and disliked. The presumed frontrunner, William Seward of New York, was unquestionably competent, but had made some radical-sounding speeches and was seen by many as a captive of Thurlow Weed’s political machine. Seward’s support was also thin in lower North states like Pennsylvania, Indiana and Illinois—all of which Republicans had lost in 1856 and were essential to victory this time. Other potential candidates had different weaknesses: Ohio’s Salmon P. Chase was an able Governor, but lacked what we would now call retail political skills. Pennsylvania’s favorite, Simon Cameron, was undeniably corrupt. The fourth “first tier” candidate, Edward Bates of Missouri, was 66, barely a Republican, and almost certainly the most conservative. It was hard to see how he could have ignited a movement. Read more »

On the Road: Time Was

by Bill Murray

47-year old Teburoro Tito stood at the head of his delegation on an island way out in the Pacific Ocean. At the stroke of midnight on January 1st, 2000 the President of Kiribati handed a torch to a young man, ceremonially passing the future to a new generation.

Nobody lived there. Nobody ever went out there. When the designers of the International Date Line put marker to map, they drew right through the 33 islands that wouldn’t become Kiribati for 95 more years. They were just trifling bits of land, of no concern to cartographers 9050 miles away in London.

But there the little group stood because in 1994 the I-Kiribati president “applied to have a slight loop inserted into the date line that included all its islands in one time zone…. The Greenwich Observatory sanctioned his proposal and thus it was that his little nation profited greatly from the millennial hoopla.”

Dancers in grass skirts played to the cameras and the Kiribati archipelago made its claim to be the first to welcome the new millennium. The US Navy submarine Topeka made its own claim, positioning itself 400 meters underwater straddling both the date line and the equator.

New Zealand claimed the new millennium’s first sunrise. Their Chatham Islands, 500 miles east of the rest of New Zealand, got about a forty-minute jump on the rest of the country.

The real first dawn over land was near remote Dibble Glacier in Antarctica, but it was midsummer there, and you couldn’t really call it dawn, because the sun had never even set. If anybody was there, they never mentioned it. Read more »

A Generous Standard For Protection

by Anitra Pavlico

Amidst all of the disheartening immigration news, it was refreshing to see the recent D.C. district court decision in Grace v. Whitaker. The A.C.L.U. and the Center for Gender & Refugee Studies brought the case on behalf of twelve adults and children who fled domestic violence in their home countries and were denied entry by United States border officials. Judge Emmet Sullivan reviewed former Attorney General Jeff Sessions’ extraordinary decision in Matter of A-B- last summer, which imposed heightened requirements for asylum-seekers entering the U.S. and moreover stated that domestic violence and gang violence were “generally” not grounds for asylum. Judge Sullivan found that Sessions’ decision and the subsequent Policy Memorandum that the Department of Homeland Security issued were unlawful.

Asylum law in the U.S.

Asylum law in the U.S. recognizes refugees belonging to a few specific categories: political opinion, race (encompassing ethnicity), nationality, religion, and “membership in a particular social group.” People fleeing abusive domestic situations and gang violence have been able to gain asylum in the U.S. through the last category, social group. To qualify as a refugee, someone must have a “well-founded fear of persecution” either by governmental actors, or, what is often crucial for social-group applicants, by non-state actors that the government is “unable or unwilling” to control. This language will come up a little later, as Sessions’ decision attempted to morph it into something quite a bit more restrictive. Read more »

Is There a Word for Reverse Anthropomorphism?

by Richard Passov

Milton Friedman

Milton Friedman, in his essay The Methodology of Positive Economics[1]first published in 1953, often reprinted, by arguing against burdening models with the need for realistic assumptions helped lay the foundation for mathematical economics. The virtue of a model, the essay argues, is a function of how much of reality it can ignore and still be predictive:

The reason is simple. A [model] is important if it explains much by little, that is, if it abstracts the common and crucial elements from the mass of complex and detailed circumstances surrounding the phenomena to be explained and permits valid predictions on the basis of them alone.

Agreement on how to allow predictive models into the canon of Economics, Friedman believed, would allow Positive Economics to become “… an Objective science, in precisely the same sense as any of the physical sciences.” What Friedman coveted can be found in a footnote:

The … prestige … of physical scientists … derives … from the success of their predictions … When economics seemed to provide such evidence of its worth, in Great Britain in the first half of the nineteenth century, the prestige … of … economics rivaled the physical sciences.

Friedman appreciated the implications of the subject as the investigator, to a degree. “Of course,” he wrote, “the fact that economics deals with the interrelations of human beings, and that the investigator is himself part of the subject matter being investigated…raises special difficulties…

But he loses the value of his observation to a spate of intellectual showboating:

The interaction between the observer and the process observed … [in] the social sciences … has a more subtle counterpart in the indeterminacy principle … And both have a counterpart in pure logic in Gödel’s theorem, asserting the impossibility of a comprehensive self-contained logic …

The absence of an ability to conduct controlled experiments, according to Friedman, was not a burden holding back progress or unique to the social sciences. “No experiment can be completely controlled,” he wrote and offered astronomers as an example of scientists denied the opportunity of controlled experiments while still enjoying the prestige he coveted.

But though moving economics forward as a positive science – one where predictions are formulated through math and then tested against alternative formulations – he did not want to see mathematics supplant economics. “Economic theory,” he wrote, “must be more than a structure of tautologies … if it is to be something different from disguised mathematics.”

When Friedman penned his article, the simplest mathematical formulations exhausted computational capacity. Read more »

Facts Become the Enemy: Art and Archives. A Conversation with Joy Garnett on “The Bee Kingdom”

by Andrea Scrima

Caricature of A.Z. Abushady by the Persian/Alexandrian cartoonist, Mohamed Fridon (ca. 1928)

Joy Amina Garnett is an Egyptian American artist and writer living in New York. Her work, which spans creative writing, painting, installation art, and social media-based projects, reflects how past, present, and future narratives can co-exist through ‘the archive’ in its various forms. Her work has been included in exhibitions at New York’s FLAG Art Foundation, MoMA–PS1, the James Gallery, the Milwaukee Art Museum, Museum of Contemporary Craft Portland, Boston University Art Gallery, and the Witte Zaal in Ghent, Belgium, and she has been awarded grants from Anonymous Was a Woman, the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, Wellcome Trust, and the Chipstone Foundation. Joy’s paintings and writings have appeared, sometimes side-by-side, in an eclectic array of publications, including the Evergreen Review, Ibraaz, edible Brooklyn, C Magazine, Ping Pong, and The Artists’ and Writers’ Cookbook. She has been working on a memoir and several other projects around the life and work of her late grandfather, the Egyptian Romantic poet and bee scientist A.Z. Abushady (1892–1955). Her chapter on Abushady will appear in Cultural Entanglement in the Pre-Independence Arab World: Arts, Thought, and Literature, edited by Anthony Gorman and Sarah Irving, forthcoming from I.B. Tauris. An excerpt from her memoir-in-progress appears in the January 2019 issue of FULL BLEDE, edited by Sacha Baumann.

Andrea Scrima: Joy, you’re the sole steward of the effects of your famous grandfather—the Egyptian Romantic poet and bee scientist Ahmed Zaki Abushady [Abu Shadi]—and have been compiling an archive for several years. First of all, however, I’d like to ask you about your artistic approach to the material and the ways in which history and storytelling interweave in the work. You showed an earlier version of this work-in-progress at Smack Mellon around four years ago, and now, recently, I’ve seen a number of new installments of The Bee Kingdom on Facebook. It makes me think of a kind of novel of layered fragments.

Abushady in the back garden of his home and research laboratory ‘Rameses Villa,’ Ealing, London. September, 1917

Joy Garnett: I like that description, The Bee Kingdom as a novel of layered fragments, though sometimes it feels like I’m chasing a moving target. It’s been challenging to parlay so many fragments into an artwork or a sustained piece of creative writing, but that is what I’m doing. The source material is not only historically relevant, it’s close and personal, and this affects how I work. And while I want to know the history of what actually happened to my grandfather and my family, and so on, I’m aware of many co-existing unofficial and even secret histories that appear and disappear as I try to make sense of things.

There are other questions, such as what types of media I want to work with. I’ve been a painter all my life, but painting isn’t right for this project. Is The Bee Kingdom mostly writing? Yes and no. I’ve subordinated the visual to writing, but the writing depends heavily on images. Read more »

Finnegans Wake & Dreaming of the ‘Everything Novel’

by Robert Fay

In the winter of 1927 James Joyce was in desperate need of a kind word. It didn’t seem to matter that he was a genius, the man who’d published Ulysses five years earlier, an artist of such magnitude that another Irish genius—a young Samuel Beckett—worshipped him and acted as his personal secretary. Joyce was completing a new novel under the working name, Work in Progress (Finnegans Wake), and nearly everyone who had read drafts hated it.

James Joyce in Paris.

His wife, Nora Joyce, badgered him: “Why don’t you write sensible books that people can understand?” while his longtime patron, the sophisticated Harriet Shaw Weaver, wrote him scathing letters. She found the work nearly indecipherable. “I am made in such a way that I do not care much for the output from your Wholesale Safety Pun Factory nor for the darkness and unintelligibilities of your deliberately-entangled language system,” she wrote. Joyce biographer Richard Ellmann in his definitive chronicle James Joyce (1959), tells us that Joyce was so upset by this letter he “took to his bed.”

In Joyce’s three previous books he had explored and mastered the limits of the short story and the autobiographical novel, and then proceeded to write a maximalist “avant-garde” novel,  Ulysses (1922), that was arguably three-to-four decades ahead of its time. In baseball terms, Ulysses remains the equivalent of Joe DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak in 1941. A record of human achievement that is unassailable and will forever remain a sacred Mount Sanai for writers across the globe.

Yet this great book burdened Joyce too. Like DiMaggio, he had to know his achievement was not repeatable. “In Dubliners he had explored the waking consciousness from outside, in A Portrait and Ulysses from inside,” Ellmann wrote. “He had begun to impinge, but gingerly, upon the mind of sleep…that the great psychological discovery of the century was the night world he was, of course, aware.”

Ellmann, we can’t forget, is referring to the writings and work of Sigmund Freud and his psychoanalytic theory, which was an intellectual bombshell of the early 20th Century that was only rivaled by Einstein’s Theory of General Relativity. In Finnegans Wake Joyce was looking to create an entirely new language for the new territory of the unconscious, of sleep, of the dream world. Read more »

Neural Weather, An Informal Defense of Psychoanalytic Ideas

by Bill Benzon

I first found Freud in the basement of the house on Luther Road. There was a small closet in the corner and my father had a box or two of paperback books in it. I don’t remember but a few titles; in fact, I’m only sure of two: Wodehouse on Golf, which I never read, and 1984, which I most certainly did read, as it had a pulpy cover that promised sex – a buxom brunette in a tight blue jumpsuit emblazoned with “Women’s Anti-Sex League” – in THAT costume! Of course, the book wasn’t quite what the cover advertised, but that was OK. I may also have found Brave New World there, I’m not sure. Come to think of it though, that probably IS where I found War of the Worlds. So that’s three titles I’m pretty sure of.

I probably found some Bertrand Russell, too, though just exactly what, I can’t recall. I went on to buy a bunch of Russell, including his history of Western philosophy. I also found something by Theodore Reik (Listening with the Third Ear?), and went on to buy more of THAT. And I found Freud, perhaps Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality; after all, it has that magic word in the title: S E X.

In the summer between my freshman and sophomore years at Johns Hopkins I read The Interpretation of Dreams. Somewhere in there I picked up a five-volume set of The Collected Papers from a book club. I’ve still got them, though they’re in storage along with some other Freud. But I’ve still got Totem and Taboo, Civilization and It’s Discontents, and The Future of an Illusion on the shelves in my apartment. They’re slender volumes and so don’t take up much space and Civilization plays to my interest in cultural evolution. Read more »

Sunday, February 3, 2019

The internet is, as a medium, fundamentally changing our conception of the political

Anton Barba-Kay in The Point:

Of all the internet’s uses, attractions and conveniences, the foremost is that it involves us immediately with an indefinite number of others. Its decisive edge over television and the printed word is just this: its participatory, social character. To the extent that it is becoming our chief means of private and public discourse, it is therefore acquiring exceptional political significance. To someone who understood nothing of the internet, much of contemporary American political life would be inscrutable. It is now our primary way of dealing with each other, our most important organ of collective speech and self-knowledge. The internet is, in this way, inherently recasting our wider notions of what to say, who to be, what to count as authoritative, and how to govern and be governed. What follows are some lines of thought sketching each of these transformations in turn.

More here.

A step closer to self-aware machines—engineers create a robot that can imagine itself

From Tech Xplore:

Robots that are self-aware have been science fiction fodder for decades, and now we may finally be getting closer. Humans are unique in being able to imagine themselves—to picture themselves in future scenarios, such as walking along the beach on a warm sunny day. Humans can also learn by revisiting past experiences and reflecting on what went right or wrong. While humans and animals acquire and adapt their self-image over their lifetime, most robots still learn using human-provided simulators and models, or by laborious, time-consuming trial and error. Robots have not learned simulate themselves the way humans do.

Columbia Engineering researchers have made a major advance in robotics by creating a robot that learns what it is, from scratch, with zero prior knowledge of physics, geometry, or motor dynamics. Initially the robot does not know if it is a spider, a snake, an arm—it has no clue what its shape is. After a brief period of “babbling,” and within about a day of intensive computing, their robot creates a self-simulation. The robot can then use that self-simulator internally to contemplate and adapt to different situations, handling new tasks as well as detecting and repairing damage in its own body. The work is published today in Science Robotics.

More here.

Anand Giridharadas: “We’re all passengers in a billionaire hijacking”

Richard Feloni in Business Insider:

Richard Feloni: What does Davos stand for in your view? Do you have any particular thoughts on this year’s, specifically?

Anand Giridharadas: I think Davos is a family reunion for the plutocrats that broke the modern West. I’ve never been to it, so I’m a cultural critic looking from a distance, but it seems to me to be a gathering of people who think that they are changing the world when they are exactly what needs changing. A gathering of people who use the idea of making a difference as a kind of lubricant in the engine of making a killing, of people who promote generosity as a cheap substitute for justice.

More here.

Behrouz Boochani: detained asylum seeker wins Australia’s richest literary prize

Calla Wahlquist in The Guardian:

The winner of Australia’s richest literary prize did not attend the ceremony.

His absence was not by choice.

Behrouz Boochani, whose debut book won both the $25,000 non-fiction prize at the Victorian premier’s literary awards and the $100,000 Victorian prize for literature on Thursday night, is not allowed into Australia.

The Kurdish Iranian writer is an asylum seeker who has been kept in purgatory on Manus Island in Papua New Guinea for almost six years, first behind the wire of the Australian offshore detention centre, and then in alternative accommodation on the island.

Now his book No Friend But the Mountains – composed one text message at a time from within the detention centre – has been recognised by a government from the same country that denied him access and locked him up.

It is, he said, “a paradoxical feeling”.

More here.

Richard Dawkins interview

George Eaton in New Statesman:

In the digital age, reputations made over decades can be lost in minutes. Richard Dawkins first achieved renown as a pioneering evolutionary biologist (through his 1976 bestseller, The Selfish Gene) and, later, as a polemical foe of religion (through 2006’s The God Delusion). Yet he is now increasingly defined by his incendiary tweets, which have been plausibly denounced as Islamophobic.

“Listening to the lovely bells of Winchester, one of our great medieval cathedrals,” he wrote to his 2.8 million Twitter followers last July. “So much nicer than the aggressive-sounding ‘Allahu akhbar.’ Or is that just my cultural upbringing?” How, I have sometimes wondered, does the former Oxford University professor for the public understanding of science feel about his new reputation?

One recent afternoon I met Dawkins, who is 77, at the spacious apartment he shares with his girlfriend (he is twice-divorced) in central Oxford. He proudly showed me his meticulously catalogued library (including a “controversy” section). The occasion for our meeting was the publication of The Four Horsemen: The Conversation that Sparked an Atheist Revolution, a transcript of the 2007 discussion between Dawkins and three fellow atheists: the late Christopher Hitchens (with whom Dawkins conducted the final interview in the New Statesman in 2011), Sam Harris and Daniel Dennett.

More here.

Michael J. Jordan

From Black Past:

Michael Jordan, National Basketball Association (NBA) superstar, was born February 17, 1963 in Brooklyn, New York, the son of James R. and Deloris Jordan. Soon after his birth, the family moved to Wilmington, North Carolina. Jordan became a standout athlete at Laney High School despite being rejected for the school’s varsity basketball team the first season he tried out. He grew four inches taller over the following year, made the team and became an All-American during his senior year at Laney. Jordan played college basketball at the University of North Carolina where under coach Dean Smith’s tutelage he established a reputation as a clutch player when he made a game winning shot against Georgetown in the 1982 National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) championship game. This reputation would follow him into the NBA when he left school before his senior year to play professionally for the Chicago Bulls.

Jordan, who was Rookie of the Year in the 1984-1985 season, led the Bulls to the playoffs where they lost in the first round to the Milwaukee Bucks. Despite sitting out 64 games in the second season due to a foot injury, Jordan returned late in this year and scored a record 63 points in a single game in 1986 against the Boston Celtics, who nonetheless eliminated the Bulls in the playoffs.

More here. (Note: Throughout February, we will publish at least one post dedicated to Black History Month).