Δ This blog has few readers but me. It is a reason why I should merge it with my research blog, and work more on my research blog. Or spend more time organizing research notes in other platforms.
Δ In any case, Mary Niall Mitchell at the University of New Orleans has this important project and may know things about New Orleans history that will support my project. I must be inspired.
Δ There is an inspiring British rapper named Akala whom I should use as an inspiration deity. This is his website. He is very intelligent and versatile. He has books, but I am interested in his graphic novel first.
Δ I need to read Ann Twinam’s Purchasing Whiteness and want to buy it, but should look for it in a library first.
Δ Allegory is not about mechanical meanings but about inner life and complex imagery. We are freed to contemplate these things since there is no doubt about theme.
Δ Many works of literature have multifractal structures.
Δ Border Cantosis — an exhibit I will see when I get to San José, which I will do, believe it or not.
Δ A smart, very balanced piece on the Clinton e-mail “scandal.”
Δ A comfortingly pessimistic view of the election and American militarism. Or unsettlingly pessimistic? What should one do (take on the arms industry and the military-prison industrial complex, has typically been my answer)?
Δ I thought steppes were cold Siberian plains with prison camps on them, and I was joking when I said the American prairies and pampas were steppes, but it seems they are. Some steppes are even subtropical. The Silk Road is on steppes, and I have been on one or two.
This is a New York Times article worthy of study. There is a marvelous quotation from H. Clinton on Qaddafi: “We came, we saw, he died!” and much else in the piece.
I would have loved to visit Libya. And Iran and other places.
“The report acknowledges the intrinsic value of language study but also argues for the necessity of thinking more about instrumental applications of language.”
Should we invite one of these consultants or are they wolves in sheep’s clothing?
The “good” father is thus not the one who helps one find one’s own self but he who spares one inner conflict. He is the father who gives one permission to vent destructiveness, who releases one from struggling with one’s own conscience. in other words, the “good” father is the bad father, who completely destroys the remnants of the really good mother. This means that fear not love reigns supreme.
—The Insanity of normality. Realism as sickness: toward understanding human destructiveness. Trans. Hannum. New York: Grove Weidenfeld, 1992.
I am getting rid of this book because I have it photocopied and bound in a cover that hides what it is, so I forget that I have it. But it is a seriously good book and Arno Gruen is an important psychoanalyst.
I would like to teach foreign languages if I didn’t have other things I wanted to do, and if I could be involved in something like this — a cool project with colleagues and resources.
I would also gladly teach foreign languages as a sideline or as service teaching if I had a leader who was plugged into initiatives like these.
“Jante Law is just as normal as the law of gravity,” newspaper editor and anthropologist Anne Knudsen assured me. “You find it everywhere, especially in peasant societies, and back [in Sandemose’s day] there were peasants peasants peasants all over the place in Denmark. This kind of ideology became the State ideology when democracy was established in the country [in 1849] and it got a second life with Social Democracy, and all of this was transmitted from generation to generation by propaganda and by a unified school system.” She added, “But, you know, the envy part is not the important part. The important part is the inclusiveness: we want to include you, but that is only possible if you are equal. It’s what peasants do.”
The entire piece is really interesting.
…[W]hy is everyone so afraid to write what they want to write, to publish what they want to publish? Why, we ruminated together, whether we are seeking tenure-track jobs or have tenure already or simply want to get inside the covers of a book, are we besieged by so many anxieties and fears regarding what we think we are allowed to say, allowed to write, allowed to express? Might it be possible, we wondered out loud, to found a press that would specifically answer to the specific desires of singular individuals who might almost be dying (inside) to write something that they have convinced themselves in advance is unpublishable and for which no existing publisher would take the “risk”? And might a publisher then perform the (loving) function of a form of self-care that attends to these singular desires, that allows them to flourish and find their way into the world that would be sustaining of the spirit and dignity that gave birth to them?
It is the connection of desire to reality that possesses revolutionary force.