Two young men greeted a new crew member on a ship’s quarterdeck almost 60 years ago to the day and, in a matter of weeks, by simple challenge, introduced this then 18 year-old who’d never really read a book through, to the lives that can be found in them. —Thank you A. Gaeta and E. Budde for your life-altering tinkering.
Narragansett —New Year
… —A night walk to the base library
The bay to my right (my rite of sea and asphalt:
I hold to shoulder, I sail, I walk the line)
the bay moved as I moved, but retrograde
as if the way I moved had something to do
with how the black bay moved
(as if in animation) backward, how it tracked
how it perfectly matched my pace, but
in direction opposed (Albert would have
a formula or two to say about this
if he were here), behind, over shoulder
a steel grey ship at pier transfigured
in cloud of cool white light— a spray
from lamps on tall poles ashore, and aboard
from lamps on mast and yards
among pins of antennae
that gleamed above its raked stack—
an electric cloud, a photon aura edges
feathered into night enveloped it as it lay
upon the shimmering skin of bay,
from here she’s still as the thought
from which she came: upheld steel on water
arrayed in light, heavy as weight, sheer as a bubble,
the line of pier beyond etched clean
as if cut by horizon’s knife
… ahead, a library
… behind, a ship at night
the bay to my right (as I said) slid dark
as the confluence of all nights
the light of low barracks and high offices
of base ahead spread west and skip off bay
each of its trillion tribulations jittering at lightspeed
fractured by bay’s breeze-moiled black surface in splintered sight
ahead the books I aim to read,
books I’ve come to love since Anthony & Ed
in the generosity of their own fresh enlightenment
teamed to bring bright tools to this greenhorn’s
stymied brain to spring its self-locked latch
to let crisp air in fresh as this breeze —and how
that breeze blew across a bay from where to everywhere
troubling Narragansett from then to me here now!
Jim Culleny
12/16/19

As I sit here marveling at the inexorability of deadlines, even in the midst of holiday cheer, I consider that I should, in the absence of time for research ventures, write about “what I know.” Isn’t that the default advice for people who don’t know what to write about and don’t want to come across as false? Well, I spend at least half of my time, and most of my psychic energy, on tasks stemming from being a mother. But do I “know” anything about it? For example, how do you get your child to become a good person, and by that I don’t mean compliant or obedient, but ethical? I spend a lot of time fretting about it, but I don’t know if I have any answers.

In 1885 Mary Terhune, a mother and published childcare adviser, ended her instructions on how to give baby a bath with this observation:

A 2011 survey by Michael Norton and Dan Ariely, of Harvard’s Business School, found that the average American thinks the richest 25% of Americans own 59% of the wealth, while the bottom fifth owns 9%. In fact, the richest 20% own 84% of the wealth, and the bottom 40% controls only 0.3%. An avalanche of studies has since confirmed these basic facts: Americans radically underestimate the amount of wealth inequality that exists – and the level of inequality they think is fair is lower than actual inequality in America probably has ever been. As journalist Chrystia Freeland put it, “Americans actually live in Russia, although they think they live in Sweden. And they would like to live on a kibbutz.”
We are all aware that from amongst the vast diversity of life forms that inhabit the earth, human beings are exceptional. But while human beings are capable of inexhaustible creativity and goodness, they also have the potential to commit the most heinous acts and demeaning of fellow human beings. Accounting for such a phenomenon in the human condition and the committing of abominable acts towards their own species, is an issue that perplexes many. Perhaps the answer to such a question can be found by studying the genes or analysing the brain functioning of the perpetrators, but that could involve investigating entire populations who knowingly condone or participate in such acts. A simpler answer could be that human beings have yet to evolve into a species that is incapable of acts of inhumanity. David Livingstone Smith’s book Less than Human: Why We Demean, Enslave, and Exterminate Others offers us insight into the processes that lead to the designating of fellow human beings as ‘subhuman’ and makes possible the potential for human beings to perpetrate acts that can only be considered as evil.

This song got caught in my head as I circled the country in my 1998 Honda. Leaving New York City, I drove west into the heart of America, up to the Dakotas, out to California, down the Golden State, and then back along the Southern route before angling northward to Baltimore. I saw nearly all the America you can see. But of course there’s not just one America. There are many.

Eve Sussman and Simon Lee are visual artists who use a variety of media, ranging from photography and film to live performance. Some of their work experiments with narrative tropes in video, text, and the act of talking to other people on the phone or in the real world. Their joint projects include CollusionNoCollusion, created during a residency in St. Petersburg, Russia; No food No money No jewels, commissioned by the Experimental Media and Performing Art Center in Troy, New York; the performance/installation Barbershop; and the live channeling performance … and all the reporters laughed and took pictures. Together they co-founded the Wallabout Oyster Theatre, a micro-theatre run out of their studios in Brooklyn. Sussman and Lee also act as producers for Jack & Leigh Ruby, two reformed criminals who are now making art and films based on their previous career as successful con artists. Recently Sussman and Lee have started working with 
GENIE: AT LAST! Esteemed Master, you have released me from the ancient lamp! Out of my boundless gratitude, I shall grant you three wishes!