No News, or What Killed the Past?

I have always enjoyed reading James Thurber.

I wonder how he'd do today.

Impolitic. And probably a little racist. He slips into "patter" when he puts words in the mouths of some of the maids the Thurber family had in Ohio, some of them Black.

Maybe something like this (a recitation Thurber mentions in his book "My Life and Hard Times."

Thurber says in his book (and much thanks to this blog for posting this bit so I didn't have to search it out on the bookshelf).

"Father was usually in bed by nine-thirty and up again by ten-thirty to protest bitterly against a Victrola record we three boys were in the habit of playing over and over, namely, "No News, or What Killed the Dog," a recitation by Nat Wills. The record had been played so many times that its grooves were deeply cut and the needle often kept revolving in the same groove, repeating over and over the same words. Thus: 'ate some burnt hoss flesh, ate some burnt hoss flesh, ate some burnt hoss flesh.' It was this reiteration that generally got father out of bed."

Do I want to pose the question: Is this use of patter racist?

Wills himself almost uses a Black patter, though he's in and out of it so much it's hard to tell. It might be the spelling used in the text here that influences the ear.

Arthur C. Clarke mentions such patter in his book "Imperial Earth," but it's mentioned as a passing joke that the Earth is so post-racist it was looked on as a linguistic anomaly to be enjoyed by an academic playing a role.

We are not post-racist. So the patter's use is a no-go.

But some kind of elocution is called for in the piece, or you get something like this:

This performance is good. But rather dull.

Now, if the farm hand were to have, say, a cracker accent, or rube or hick accent, probably no problem. And that in of itself might be a little racist too.

No one has to cancel Wills or Thurber these days as nobody outside of academics or old-timey aficionados are likely to be familiar with them. Not that they wouldn't try, of course.

Avert Your Eyes, Pearl-Clutchers!

In case I suddenly fall silent on Facebook for the next 30 days, let it be known that sharing an image featuring [REDACTED name of infamous international terrorist] in the company of [REDACTED name of anal yet beloved pigeon-fancier and bottle cap collector] goes against Facebook's community standard of EVER posting a joke image on its service.

In their cautionary note to me, they did not indicate which person in the image violated their community standards, so I have to assume it was [REDACTED name of infamous international terrorist], although in context it can be assumed the other personage represented is also pretty damned shifty.

They also assured me, in banning me from advertising or going live on Facebook for the next 30 days that "mistakes are made," so they stopped short of a full 30-day disadulation. By this I assume their magnanimity refers to me making mistakes in posting the naughty image, not them in getting salty over a joke.

Rest assured the AI bots in the employ of Mark Zuckerberg are always vigilant in their attempts to protect Facebook's users from humor.

The offending photo, explained. It's also displayed at the bottom of this post.

The New Politics: The Two Minute Hate

Had your Two Minutes Hate yet?

In case you don’t know, here’s what one looks like:

“The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate,” George Orwell writes in his novel 1984, “was not that one was obliged to act a part, but that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretense was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one’s will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp.”

I see it a lot on social media. Questions posed not to prompt introspection or even to get an answer/ Rather, questions asked to point out the hypocrisy present in the Other while wrapping oneself in the warm embrace of perceived self-righteousness on the subject of the question asked.

And while some deserve the satisfaction of being on the “right side” of a question, too many more are only on the right side so they can point and laugh at those they perceive as hypocrites. Altruism plays a minor key second fiddle to Being Right. And Being Right is more important, above everything else.

If the other side does it? For shame. That’s Whataboutism and Wrongthink and How Dare You Because Your Side does THIS. The Two Minutes Hate works only to point out the hypocrisy of the other, not to ferret out the hypocrisy of those posing the question.

My own smug, self-righteous response to those questions: Homey Don’t Play Dat. Because it’s a zero-sum game. No matter how you answer, parachutists fall in with logical fallacy after logical fallacy until they “win.” Because Being Right isn’t enough; someone else must Be Wrong. Because if no one is wrong to be pointed at and lorded over, what’s the fun in Being Right?

And the smug goes up to 11.

Answer the question hat in hand, prepare for a pile-on.

Answer the question belligerently, yeah, that’ll make everything right.

Which is why I typically try the Backwards Hairpiece Gambit. And that never works because what it does is interrupt the jolly Two Minutes Hate everyone else wants to participate in.

A long time ago, and I don’t remember where, I read a piece about political and social thought in Japan. One of the interviewees noted that in Japan, one can hold unpopular thoughts and opinion – Wrongthink – but it had better remain silent. Not because of the political pile-ons, but because speaking unpopular thoughts Just Wasn’t Done. The interviewee described his nation as an “archipelago of thought” where occasionally like-minded people would chance to meet and share, but rarely in public. The restive thoughts were still there, left unsaid. It’s quieter that way.

I don’t want to go there.

But I don’t want to participate in the Two Minutes Hate, which seems to be the norm today.

Listen for the Music and Fill Your Head

Consider the following problem:

My full-time job is at a federal laboratory where waste left over from nuclear weapons production is repackaged for storage. This waste presents many hazards, one of the least being sometimes, when left in the “right” conditions, some of this waste can spontaneously burst into flame. As you can imagine, burning nuclear waste isn’t the best thing do to do keep other hazards – notably, radiation – in check. Part of my job is to assist in writing and revising procedures that must be followed carefully in order to keep this waste from burning.

While I can’t go into the practicalities here, rest assured writing these procedures is an iterative process, in which methods have to be tried and tried again, based on the best evidence presented from operators, chemists, radiation protection technicians, and others to ensure the process recorded in the written documentation is the best way to prevent accidents.

This means the procedures are in a constant state of being written and re-written. Not because accidents are frequent, but because each type of waste demands its own special treatment. Writing and re-writing and writing it all over again is just part of the process.

That goes for a lot of aspects of life.

Iteration. Revision. If at first you fail, try, try again.

“Suppose a company wants to make a product that will perhaps make a real difference,” writes Donald A. Norman, director of the Design Lab at the University of California San Diego, in his book “The Design of Everyday Things.” “The problem,” he continues, “is that if the product is truly revolutionary, it is unlikely that anyone will quite know how to design it right the first time; it will take several tries. But if a product is introduced into the marketplace and fails, well that is it. Perhaps it could be introduced a second time, or maybe even a third time, but after that it is dead: everyone believes it to be a failure.

In a conversation with a product designer, Norman asked “You mean that it takes five or six tries to get an idea right?”

“Yes,” he said. “At least that.”

“But,” I replied, you also said that if a newly introduced product doesn’t’ catch on in the first two or three times, then it is dead?”

“Yup,” he said.

“Then new products are almost guaranteed to fail, no matter how good the idea.”

“Now you understand,” said the designer. “Consider the use of voice messages on complex devices such as a camera, soft-drink machines, and copiers. A failure. No longer even tried. Too bad. It really is a good idea, for it can be very useful when the hands or eyes are busy elsewhere. But those first few attempts were very badly done and the public scoffed – properly Now, nobody dares try it again, even in those places where it is badly needed.”

This book was published in 1988. That’s thirty-three years ago.

Think about our world filled with voice-activated devices. Devices that hear us and understand us and can deliver what we want. We can make phone calls using only our voice. Ask for music. Request a movie or television show. Or the news or the weather. Or even drive a car. Using only our voices.

Those designers’ work, back in the late Eighties, wasn’t in vain. It just took a lot more trying.

What I’m getting at is this: Maybe you’re not satisfied with your skill as a writer now. Maybe you look at what you have written and think it’s awful. I know I do.

The only way I know how to improve writing is to keep writing. And to read, watch TV, or whatever it takes to get ideas in your head. The more you write and the more you think, the better you’ll do. And you won’t see improvement all at once.

Let me put it another way:

Let me liken what this video says to writing. The narrator says the following: “The dance steps require discipline but the joy of the dance will only be experienced when we come to hear the music. Sometimes in our homes we successfully teach the dance steps, but are not as successful at helping our family members to hear the music.”

I hope you’ve learned some things about writing in this class. Maybe some of the steps. But I know for most of you, this is just part of your journey into hearing the music of writing. I hope you have heard it, or that someday you may hear it. It is beautiful to hear.

Keep practicing the dance. And when you hear the music, let it fill your spriit.

And while you’re waiting to hear the music, or if it’s only coming faintly, fill your head.

Listen again: "When you talk to Chuck, he is always encouraging you to go to the source, to study real life, to study art, and apply that to your animation. It's not just drawing funny faces."

And to Mr. Jones himself: "Reading. Read everything. It doesn't do you much good to draw unless you have something to draw. And the only place you're going to get anything to draw is out of that head."

Listen for the music. Let it touch your spirit. And always, always, fill your head.

The New Seal

Many moons ago, our youngest made an official seal. Here it is in all its glory.

He was then called on, as a high school junior, to create another. He was tempted for a little while to resubmit his old one, but we convinced him to update it.

So he did. Behold:

Note we did talk him into keeping the crossed fork and knife motif, but the rest is all him. Well, mostly him. He was pretty put out he had to do such an assignment in a high school English class, but that's how it goes.

The Backwards Hairpiece Gambit

Early in the morning of February 6, 1858, Representative Galusha Grow, a Republican from Pennsylvania, and Rep. Laurence Kent, a Democrat from South Carolina, exchanged insults that quickly led to blows as the US House of Representatives debated admitting Kansas as a state with a pro-slavery Constitution.

More than 30 representatives joined the melee as South Carolina Democrat James Orr, Speaker of the House, gaveled for order. Sergeant-at-Arms Adam J. Glossbrenner was ordered to arrest the combatants. He jumped into the scrum, wielding the House Mace high above his head.

Order was only restored when Democrat William Barksdale, upset that Wisconsin Republicans John Potter and Cadwaller Washburn had ripped his hairpiece off during the fight, in frustration jammed it on his head backwards. Barksdale looked so ridiculous that both sides stopped fighting and started laughing.

The House was recessed for two days, and when debate was permitted to recommence, Kansas was admitted to the Union as a Free State.

My sources.

Two lessons can be learned from this:

1. Congress has always been the way it is.
2. Sometimes when people make “idiot” remarks about “serious matters” on social media, they’re secretly hoping it’s the equivalent of the Backwards Hairpiece Gambit and leads people to reassess their behavior.

Some Wear . . .

 

Same Fire, Different Nazis

I have to be fair: I’ve heard of only one of them.

Them being the six books Dr. Seuss Enterprises will no longer publish because of reasons. The one I’ve heard of? “And To Think I Saw it on Mulberry Street.” I don’t remember much about it, except that the denizens of Mulberry Street get more . . . what’s the word . . . diverse as the journey progresses.

But alas, it appears one of said denizens is clad in caricatured Chinese garb and is eating out of a bowl with chopsticks. So to the memory hole.

Yes, the republic will continue. Seuss will continue to amuse children.

For now.

The books are getting older. There are more enlightened books, more current books, that share the same message, but in a vetted way, written by the right people who have done the right things in the right way and have the approbation of those who curate the greater culture. So soon, Seuss, soon.

Soon.

We must protect the children – think of the children! – from even the remnant of harm, per James Lileks, a columnist for the Minneapolis Star Tribune, whom I read a lot but is probably not the arbiter of All Things Right, because he has Wrong Opinions.

Remember this: We can’t have relatively harmless caricatures of people in Chinese garb. That’s bad.

We can have vicious caricatures of the prophet Muhammad, which really upsets fundamentalist Muslims, because lolz they’re all backwards and don’t really understand the whole free speech thing and to stand with them you stand with those who shot up Charlie Hebdo YOU MONSTER.

There’s probably a logical fallacy there somewhere that negates the example. So find it quick before a penetrating thought enters your cerebral cortex.

I bring this up because for a while I have toyed with writing a parody of “And To Think I Saw it on Mulberry Street,” a fandom-based parody that would transport the street and its denizens to a rather popular world of a recently-deceased author.

But therein lies the potential of exposing people to even the remnant of harm. Even though said fandom world contains its own caricatures of those it is Socially Appropriate to mock because ain’t they all backwards in modern society, amirite?

An oh, the prudes.

They’ve put a brassiere on the camel,

They claim she’s more decent that way.

They’ve put a brassiere on the camel,

The camel had nothing to say.

They squeezed her into it, I’ll never know how

They say that she looks more respectable now.

Lord know what they’ve got in mind for the cow,

Since they’ve put a brassiere on the camel.

Nonsense verse from Shel Silverstein.

But apt. They’ve nixed the six from Dr. Seuss. Who’s next, and what will happen to them? (And yes, I know this was a self-nixing. As self-nixed as we can get these days, with mobs threatening at the door.)

The camel and the cow ought to be left unadorned, no matter if their bits offend.

If I don’t like a book, I don’t read it. I might suggest to others they avoid it for reasons, but if I see someone reading it, I’m not going to snatch it out of their hands and tell them they’re bad, bad people.

Because who’s behind me, waiting to snatch up what I’m reading?

Here’s another literary consideration for you:

We sound like the firemen from Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. We sound like the people whom Bradbury laments when he said “The problem in our country isn’t with books being banned, but with people no longer reading. You don’t have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.”

Probably another logical fallacy there. But, aha, you say. We’re not not reading. We’re just not reading the offensive books. Or publishing them anymore. We’re reading better, wholesome books. We’re avoiding things that could potentially expose us to harm. Or the remnant of harm. Which is the same argument the book-banners and book-burners used when they banned and burned the books that made them uncomfortable.

Same fire. Different Nazis. Damn right I just Godwinned this post.

So. Howya feelin’ now?