이명박

South Korea held its presidential election last week, and I've followed the campaign reasonably closely. The conservative frontrunner, 이명박, won the election in a landslide (his name is Romanized as Lee Myung-bak, which isn't bad as far as translations go, except that Koreans don't pronounce the "L" in "Lee;" this is obvious if you can read Korean, since there's no "L" character in the Hangul representation of "Lee"). I'm not thrilled with the result.

Quite apart from his politics, there's the small matter of corruption charges levied against him. He was cleared of these charges before the election; however, damning videotape evidence surfaced shortly before Koreans headed to the polls. The videotape isn't sufficient evidence to convict him of anything, but Lee was forced to employ some Clintonesque rhetoric to avoid indictment. Basically, in the Korean language, you rarely need to use personal pronouns. So instead of saying "I own and operate BBK," you might say "Own and operate BBK." The pronoun would be assumed based on context. Essentially, Lee Myung-bak's defense rests on this ambiguity.

I understand why Koreans chose to elect the man they did, and they didn't have great choices, despite having a dozen candidates to choose from, but it's disappointing to see a Confucian country like Korea ignore ethics in favor of economic growth.

The Golden Compass

It's been awhile since I alienated my readers, and what better way to get back into it than by talking about religion? I won't get into a straightforward explication of my religious views, but if you'd like some insight into those, my second post on this blog is probably the closest thing you're going to get. Anyway. Onward!

The release of The Golden Compass has impelled the Catholic Church to take action against it in its usual manner, and by that I mean denunciation and censorship. You can watch the movie in theaters now (trailer here) or you can read the book on which the film is based. If you're like me, you'll do both. The Church has an inveterate history of being wrong, so it's best not to take their word for it. I say this, by the way, not to degrade the Church; it's simply a statement of fact, albeit written by a frustrated non-Catholic.

The second paragraph of this post might offend some readers, and I'm sorry if anyone feels offended by my words, but I'm not sorry for giving offense by writing them. There's simply nothing objectionable in The Golden Compass, and the Church's objections are based, at best, on insecurity and discomfort with its own history--which, let's face it, there's good reason for; at worst, however, they're based on prejudice against the author, an avowed atheist--which, well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?

If the Church sees itself in The Golden Compass's Magisterium, then perhaps it ought to think about that. If it sees its own reflection in a fantasy film about an oppressive religious authority, surely that's a reason to do something about the image in the mirror, and not a reason to destroy the mirror.

Granted, the movie isn't completely neutral, and the books are admittedly subversive, but this is often true of good fiction. Anyway, critical thinkers can decide for themselves what to believe. But we don't develop critical thinking skills in young adults--or, for that matter, adults--by keeping ideas away from them. Quite the opposite. Which is why it's so troubling to see Catholic school boards pulling the books from their shelves. The primary purpose of education should be to inculcate critical thinking skills, not ideology, and the Church appears unable to understand that.

Christmas Shopping In Insadong

I bought some goodies in Insadong today. Insadong is the area of Seoul that's most popular with tourists, but it's not just a tourist site; it's popular with Koreans too, which becomes blindingly obvious if you venture there on the weekend. It's home to Seoul's traditional Korean culture, and it's been an important part of the city since the days of the Joseon Dynasty, which endured for over 500 years until the Japanese conquered and annexed Korea in 1910. Nowadays, antique shops abound all over Insadong and there are plenty of souvenir stores right alongside them. It's the place to go for gifts and keepsakes.

I couldn't buy as much as I would have liked, unfortunately. Weight and size limits are pesky things to consider, even when you've got someone to act as courier.

Moving On

Here's the deal with my non-updates lately. My roomie got homesick enough that she's returning to Canada at the end of the month. Being away from her family proved too difficult for her. I'm not having the same kinds of problems--though, to be clear, I do miss you guys! But because I'm not having those problems, and because I'm confident that I can deal with them when and if they arise, I have no intention of leaving anytime soon--though, again, if any of you want to visit Seoul, please do so! Mention this blog post and I'll give you a roof over your head as well as a 100% discount on all tourism services.*

Anyway, long story short, I have to find a new apartment by the end of the month. The new tenants take possession on December 26. I don't want to move into the new place on Christmas, so I have a project for next week. Which means that I'll be busy. I'm growing accustomed to that, actually.

*Offer not valid in Quebec. No cash value.

August Rush

August Rush is the sort of movie that's ridiculous, contrived, absurd, and predictable. Its presentation is equal parts frantic and frenetic. It's like watching one long music video. I didn't need to watch the trailer to know what was going to happen--although I could have done that if I had known beforehand that I was going to see it. Regardless, after the first few minutes, I knew exactly how the movie was going to end.

Somewhat embarrassingly, however, I enjoyed myself throughout. From its preposterous plot--a plot, by the way, that owes a huge debt to Dickens' Oliver Twist--to its shallow characters, I bought into the fairy tale story it wanted to tell. And, hey, why not? No doubt kids'll love it; it made me feel like one. Not to mention: It has a great soundtrack.

December

Apologies for the light blogging lately. Between exploring Korea, teaching, and sleeping, I've been busy. Also, I've had a sore throat for the last week or so. Since my job depends on my ability to speak, I've tried to preserve my voice as much as possible. That's why phone calls home haven't happened in awhile. Happily, however, my throat seems to be on the mend.

On Writing

The post immediately below this one is heavier on sentiment and lighter on tightly-written prose than usual. It's more difficult for me to write those sorts of posts well, so I ask you to be more forgiving of their defects.

Omega Alpha

Today is the last teaching day of the month, which means it's the last day of classes.  Most students will re-register, and next month they'll be with many of the same classmates.  Those who decided to take--and managed to pass!--the exit test can re-register at a higher level; they'll join a new group of students.  Occasionally, with stronger classes, everyone passes the exit test, and they all move up together.  This tends to happen when students enjoy their class and they all get along well with each other; the stronger ones wait to move up for a month or so until the weaker ones are able to pass the test.  Of course, this is the most gratifying result--and probably the most desirable result all-around.  One of my colleagues had one such class.

Some students will choose not to re-register.  This is the worst case scenario from my employer's point of view (well, actually, the worst case scenario is when a student registers and drops the class before the refund deadline, but I didn't have any of those).  Sometimes, however, my preferences don't line up with theirs. For example, one of my students got the job he wanted, so he won't take another English class next month. That's a good result, as far as I'm concerned.  Though it's bad for business, and although I'm sorry to lose him, I'm happy for him.

My supervisor tries to rotate the teaching schedule, so that next month, I'll get new classes with new students.  It's nice to have a fresh start, and it's nice to be finished with classes that don't quite click, but it's sad to say goodbye to students and classes that are a pleasure to teach.  

I was particularly sad to say goodbye to one of my classes that ended this morning.  We held the class at a restaurant (which is my prerogative to exercise, once a month, for each class), and afterward we headed to Starbucks for coffee.  While there, they all thanked me for the class, expressing their gratitude for my patient and forgiving teaching style.  It was undoubtedly the most rewarding moment of my year--moreso, even, than my university graduation.  And I don't doubt their sincerity: It was my last class of the morning so I didn't need to get back to work right away; I, and almost everyone else, stayed to chat for hours after the class ended. We exchanged cell phone numbers before we went our separate ways. It made my day, which spurred me to write about it here.

Extraordinary Times

Every once in awhile something amazing happens: humans create the Internet; a nearby star goes supernova; philosophers solve one problem without creating at least two new ones; George W. Bush enacts good policy.  The list goes on. Well, folks, add another one--and it might top the list!  

The Saskatchewan Roughriders won the Grey Cup.  Never thought I'd see the day.

Define "Date"

According to my students, I went on a date on Sunday.  I was, um, surprised to hear this.  Our definitions differ.  But, hey, I had a good time, and so did she, so maybe it doesn't matter that much.

I felt like I had a handle on this in Canada, but now I feel like I'm 16 again, figuring out these things for the first time.

Update

Turns out our school isn't losing its best teacher after all. It's been a weird week, but things seem to have worked out for the best.

Photo Of The Day

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It's been a wild week and it's only Wednesday night. I've had two huge surprises thrown at me in as many days. Tuesday's put me on cloud nine, but today's slammed me back down to earth. I feel like a pinball, being shoved around by forces beyond my control. I'm upset, angry, disappointed, and depressed from today's news, but there's also the residue of ecstasy left over from yesterday's surprise. It's a wicked cocktail of emotions.

Bottom line: I'll be fine. I'm losing a great supervisor, and our school is losing its best teacher, but life will go on and I'll get over it eventually. So it goes.

Two Things

1) I have written, and will continue to write, words and phrases on this blog in Korean. It's possible that you won't be able to see these on your computer screen. If indeed you can't see them, likely you'll see small boxes in their place. This is because Windows computers lack Korean language fonts by default. Korean language packs can be installed, however, so if you want to remedy this, it's definitely possible. I'll try to translate any Korean into English, but I won't always do so.

2) Whenever I write Korean names, I'll follow Korean convention and write the family name first, followed by the given names. I won't suddenly start doing this with Western names, obviously, but it's something to be aware of.

See? Foreign Ingredients

김덕수 (Kim Duk Soo) is one of my favorite newly-discovered artists. He fronts a group called 사물놀이 (SamulNori), which shares its name with an entire genre of Korean music. It's best described as a fusion of jazz and traditional Korean stylings. It's generally upbeat, energetic, and very foreign-sounding. One of my students lent me one of the group's CDs (specifically, 난장-뉴호라이즌, if you're interested), and I owe her my thanks for it.

Ex Post Facto

I went to a fancy pants banquet tonight at the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Seoul, held by my employer. There was some good entertainment, good wine, and lots of good food--with more forks and fewer chopsticks than I've seen in awhile. There was lots of good company, too, like the cute Korean English teacher sitting beside me (unfortunately, she's from Daegu, which is about four hours away from Seoul). I got some compliments on my Korean pronunciation, no doubt because I didn't use much Korean beyond "thank you." Also, purely by accident, I ran into another Canadian expat from Saskatoon!

Beer Good

One of my Australian colleagues--well, supervisors, actually--took me out for a beer tonight. Both of us finished earlier than the other teachers (there are six native English speakers at my school) and I think he wanted an opportunity to chat with me. Plus, he said that in his experience Canadians have good taste about these things.

I suggested a place nearby that sells Big Rock beer. I hadn't walked in but I had seen the sign and I had recognized the name. Some of you might recognize it too. It's from Calgary, AB. So we sat down and had a beer from Calgary in a pub on the other side of the world in Seoul, South Korea. It wasn't something I expected to do before I arrived, but life is full of pleasant surprises. And sometimes it's not: as he expected, my colleague was impressed by my recommendation.

On Daemosan

I met a man on Mt. Daemo today ("san" means "mountain"). I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said that he was a bit pushy. He introduced himself, grabbed my arm, and spoke with me for a minute or two; before I knew it, he was asking me to converse with his daughter. He obviously wanted me to agree to the request: His hand grasped my arm as he asked. I had little else to do, so I politely acquiesced. I hesitated because his daughter didn't want to speak with me at first. Mostly she was shy and also, I think, deathly afraid of failing--in front of me and in front of her father. Her reluctance didn't come as a surprise to me. It's common of Koreans, especially children.

Her English skills were impressive for her age. I'd put her at an intermediate level at YBM, which is where I teach adults. We talked for awhile, and afterward her father asked me what I thought of her English ability. She was a nice girl, and I didn't want to get her into trouble, so I inflated my estimation. I told him that she was somewhere between an intermediate and an advanced level. He seemed satisfied with my answer and I continued on up the mountain.

Living as a visible minority in a society as foreign as this one will make anyone feel separate from it. But this encounter was the first time I felt this different from everyone else. I was the white male English teacher from Canada. In this society, all of that matters, much more than any of it matters in Canada.

Photo Of The Day

Oops!

10 Things To Do (And Not To Do) In Korea

1) Never wear your shoes in someone's home. Take them off at the entrance.
2) Slurping your food isn't rude. Do it guilt-free.
3) Don't leave your chopsticks in your bowl or on your plate. Leave them on a napkin on the table when you're not using them.
4) Don't tip.
5) Try to give and receive things, like business cards and cash, with both hands.
6) Wait for the oldest person at the table to start eating before you do. Likewise, don't leave until the oldest person has finished.
7) Offer to pour others' drinks when drinking with them. Reciprocate their offers.
8) Defer to your elders. Don't argue.
9) Assert yourself in crowds and on the street. Don't wait for cars. Be a bit pushy.
10) Come visit me!

Photo Of The Day

Photo Of The Day

Speaking The Language

One of the most common questions people back home ask me is whether or not I know the Korean language. I don't yet, not really. I do know some basic phrases, and my pronunciation is apparently rather impressive for a beginner. That's thanks to some Korean friends back home, who were enormously helpful teachers. I'm looking forward to seeing one of them again next month when she returns to Seoul. But despite the help, I can't say much beyond "yes/no," "hello/goodbye," "hurry!," "please/thanks/sorry," "may I have...?," "do you have...?," "how much does it cost?," "can you cut the price?," and some basic vocabulary. However, even this much is helpful if you want to be able to, for example, ask for more water in a restaurant--or a fork, for those dishes that are too hard to eat with chopsticks!

I can sort of read Hangul, and that's enormously helpful. Here's an anecdotal example. Until recently, I stayed in a motel. There was a dispenser on the wall in the bathroom, which dispensed three liquids. The first, reading phonetically, sounded like "sham-pu;" the second was "rin-see;" and the third was more or less "cleanser" (the sounds are difficult to replicate in English with the Roman alphabet). So I figured out which one to use to wash my hair. Obviously, knowing how to read isn't going to help you if the Korean words are completely foreign to you, but it does help from time to time. And, at least in my case, it's hard not to desire to learn more.

In The Jungle

There are, of course, a great many differences you notice upon arrival in Seoul, regardless of where you're from. Some are more acute than others. The sum of their effects, though, is to create an entirely unique experience for the first-timer. It's difficult to contain in words the sense of wonderment I felt immediately upon my arrival in Gangnam. It's another world I stepped into.

But first things first. If you're reading this, likely you have no idea what I mean when I refer to Gangnam. So right there, I think, is the best place to start. Seoul is massive. I mean really, really, really massive. It's one of the largest cities in the world by population. If you consider the entire Seoul National Capital Area, including Incheon, which is where the airport is, it's the second most populous metro area in the world, behind only Tokyo. But it's more densely populated than Tokyo.

Seoul is divided into districts. You can think of these as neighborhoods if you like, though the term "neighborhood" seems ill-suited--too rural--to describe them. Gangnam is one of these districts, and it's probably the busiest. Traffic jams are the norm. So perhaps it shouldn't be surprising to see cab drivers run red lights, or to see motorcycle riders weave through the gridlock, sometimes into oncoming lanes. Still, it surprised me.

In addition to its people, Gangnam is also home to a great deal of wealth. You can see evidence of this when you walk down the street. During the day and in the evening, walking on the sidewalk requires more than a little concentration in order to weave in and around the crowd of people, all dressed immaculately, stylishly, and with surprising individuality. No doubt many work in the corporate headquarters of multinational corporations, like Samsung, located in Gangnam.

The people, of course, are all Korean. Multiculturalism is an idea barely worth thinking about here. White people stick out; Black people don't exist. Appearances matter to Koreans, and it shows. Cosmetics stores are everywhere, outnumbered only, perhaps, by restaurants and clothes boutiques. Food and clothes are cheap by Western standards, even in Gangnam, but it's hard not to notice that at least some of the fabrics Koreans wear aren't up to Western standards. And the food is cheaper in Gangnam only if you eat Korean food. Thankfully, I enjoy the food--maybe more than Western food!--but I'm not a picky eater. Many people are. If they don't think they are before they arrive, they quickly realize afterward.

Skyscrapers are everywhere. Chain stores are ubiquitous. For example, I work at a YBM adult language school. There are four of these within a few city blocks of each other. There's one across the street from where I work. This sort of thing is not at all unique. You'll commonly see two of the same stores at once. It's amusing, although it can make navigation difficult; the streets of Gangnam are familiar even if you've walked down only a few of them. Right now, for me, there's nothing more exciting than walking down more and more of them.

Briefing

I'm in Seoul, safely. Photos, more extensive updates, and phone calls home will follow once things settle down a bit.

Lexis Nexus

Free Rice is a neat way to build your vocabulary and do some good at the same time. My vocabulary level, in case you're curious, has gone as high as 44, but most of the time I hover around 39-40.

Weekend Update

For reasons that continue to elude me, I've retained readers. So, for those of you who've stuck with me, here's an update: I'm off to Seoul in mid-late October. I should have a specific departure date Real Soon Now. I'm confident about the job--the whole situation, really--I'm heading to. Notwithstanding my confidence, though, I'm starting to realize that I'll miss Saskatoon and its people. Still, my excitement more than balances out my anxiety.

Dexter

I spend only a fraction of my time in front of the TV, not least because only a fraction of that time is decently spent. Occasionally, however, I stumble across something worthwhile. Showtime's Dexter is one example from tonight. I saw the fantastic opening sequence on Youtube a few months ago after reading positive reviews online. Tonight I noticed one of my favorite TV actresses cast as the title character's girlfriend, so I decided to give it a try.

As I said, it's an example of a worthwhile TV show. Dexter is the surprisingly likeable title character. Also, he's a sociopath. He's likeable, though, because he only kills serial killers. His sociopathy distances him from the rest of the world; but, at the same time, it's hard for us to distance ourselves too greatly from him. We see the world through his eyes. The effect, of course, is to humanize him. Perhaps this is ironic, given how often Dexter makes us think about the (large) part of humanity that he lacks. If the psychology of sociopathy interests you, it's worth a look.

I hung on after the credits for a show called Brotherhood. I can't say it engaged me, but I stayed with it long enough to hear Lou Reed's "Heroin" playing during one of its scenes. This came as a surprise, since I had been listening to The Cowboy Junkies' Trinity Session, which includes a justifiably well-regarded cover of "Sweet Jane." Naturally, the confluence of these two events sent me to my music collection to play my too-long neglected copy of The Velvet Underground & Nico. So, you see, watching TV isn't always a waste of time.

Money Matters

While I was a student, my bank refused to increase my credit limit on my Visa above $1500. This frustrated me because I regularly reached my limit with tuition, books, and all my other expenses. The moment I graduated, however, they asked me if $4000 was high enough (or too high). Granted, my income tripled and my discretionary income skyrocketed from $100/month to $1200/month, but my budgeting skills didn't change. I didn't suddenly acquire an aversion to debt; I've always had that.

Giving (A) Hand (To Steve) Jobs

I'm writing this on an iBook with an iPod attached to it, so I'm hardly anti-Apple, but I'll never get over the fawning press the company gets. Love letters to its CEO, like this one, are proof positive that hipster yuppies are at least as inanely consumerist as anyone else. Just in case the organic food industry wasn't proof enough.

Hell Is The Absence Of God

God is not just, God is not kind, God is not merciful, and understanding that is essential to true devotion.

Read the story. Courtesy of Andrew Vestal.

ATTENTION

New PJ Harvey album next month.

Just thought I'd remind you.

Philosophy & Science From A Scientist & A Philosopher

I haven't had much motivation to write lately. Not sure why. I have, however, had plenty motivation to read. Among the books I've been reading are Richard Feynman's The Meaning of It All and Paul Feyerabend's Against Method.

I've read three or four of Feynman's books before. This one is a collection of three lectures on science, religion, and philosophy. The lectures are transcriptions. And it shows; they're not very well written. But there are lots of Feynman's always-interesting anecdotes used to illustrate abstract ideas. I like this argument style a lot--although I can follow abstract arguments, I don't have a lot of faith in them to demonstrate anything important. Only when they're woven together with concrete examples do I really pay attention to the conclusions. Like Feynman, my allegiance lies with empiricism, not rationalism.

The book itself is most interesting for its exposition of science and scientific thinking. The main idea is that there's... not a method, exactly, but a set of values intrinsic to scientific thinking. These values are crucially important for truth-seeking, and they ought to be better respected, but truth-seeking isn't the only important thing in the world. Values themselves, for example, can't be discovered by the scientist. And values, of course, are valuable. Feynman, by his own admission, is not a philosopher, and some of his arguments are dubious, but they're all thought-provoking.

Feyerbend's book is a polemic on the philosophy of science, written by a philosopher. The thesis is interesting: Feyerbend argues for methodological "anarchy" in epistemology and science. The actual evidence to support the thesis isn't very impressive, however. There are too many controversial claims with too few--or zero!--specific citations to back them up. For that reason, it's hard to accept the claims of a philosopher about science over the views of an actual physicist--and a highly respected one at that. But don't take my word for it. Feynman wouldn't want you to.

Grad School

If I had had upwards of $100,000 at the start of my undergrad, I would have applied for admission at St. John's College. The Great Books curriculum appeals to me, and I strongly prefer the seminar-based pedagogy.

I don't regret the route I took, not least because I managed to graduate debt-free, and that gives me a lot more freedom today. But even though I've graduated, I've not given up on attending St. John's College. The Graduate Institute at Santa Fe is one of the ways I might spend my savings from my time teaching abroad. I'd have to teach for a couple of years to save enough to pay for it, but I could do that, and it's one of the few routes through grad school that would excite and interest me. I've read a lot of the Western Classics already--still not enough to satisfy me!--but everything in the Eastern Classics program would be new to me. Plus, I could do the degree in a year.

Prologue

I haven't read many books this summer (by my standards), but I've decided to make up for it by reading the Bible in its entirety. In most cases, of course, this means reading books and chapters I've already read, often many times over; in other cases, however, I've not read the material since I was a child, or, perhaps, I've never read it at all.

I read the Gospels and several Pauline Epistles two years ago in Oxford's New Revised Standard Version and every now and again I read a book or a chapter from that translation. This time, however, I'll be using my leatherbound copy of the King James Version, and I'll start at the beginning. The KJV is hardly the most accurate translation available, but it's the cornerstone of Western culture and I'll be using it for that reason. I'll post my thoughts here after each book, which will hopefully motivate me to slog through the not-so-exciting books (Numbers, Leviticus) to get to the gold (Ecclesiastes, Job).

And although I said I'd start at the beginning, I'll say this right now so that it's out of the way. It's called Revelation. Not Revelations. I can't tell you how annoyed I get when I see irreligious, educated people talk about how much they loved/hated "Revelations." It's like when creationists talk about "Origin of the Species." Reading about a book is not the same as actually reading it.

Look At Me! Look At Me!

The Last Psychiatrist is one to watch, folks. The whole blog is engrossing, but the posts on narcissism are very, very interesting. Is narcissism "the disease of our times," as the doc claims? Or has he read too many existentialist philosophers?

Moral Failure Over A Cup Of Coke

An incident at work tonight bugged me enough that I felt I had to write about it. A couple came in to bowl with their two children. I'd put the kids at about 12 years old. They were friendly people, and they didn't appear to have any problems with the pinsetters or anything like that. A minor scoring problem arose, due to their error, but we fixed it promptly. So here's what happened that made their stay noteworthy.

One of the kids ordered a drink, which he spilled as he ran back to his lane. He asked if he could get another one. I told him that he could, but that he'd have to pay for it. He looked annoyed, but he went back to his lane, presumably because he didn't have enough money. Moments later, however, his mother approached the counter with her son. She was obviously annoyed: "My son spilled his drink. He'd like another one." It was a demand. "Of course," I said, in my customer-service voice. "That'll be three dollars." She wasn't impressed with my response: "But he didn't get any of the first one!" I couldn't hear her properly over the background noise, so I apologized, and I asked her to repeat what she had said. She did, but this time she mocked my attempts to be polite.

It's worth saying that, at this point, she completely erased any inclination I might have had to meet her halfway--let alone to meet her all the way, which I might have done, depending on the circumstances. It's only a drink, after all. But I don't respond well to rude and unreasonable people. I get snarky.

I acknowledged that her son dropped his drink almost immediately after he got it, and that he did it accidentally, but I pointed out that we couldn't be responsible for such things, as they're out of our control. I didn't spill his drink. She said, "So, what are you responsible for?" There was more than a hint of derision in her voice. Sarcasm crept into mine, "I'm sorry, I don't follow." "We get chintzed out of the drink and the bowling." Now I was annoyed: "You didn't get 'chintzed' out of the drink. Your son dropped it. As for the bowling, what problems have you had?" She mentioned the scoring problem, and she said that it had happened again. She was obviously grasping at straws. I told her that if she had told us about it, we could have helped her, just as we did the first time. With that, she stormed off.

Rudeness and stupidity don't bother me all that much. Normally, I shrug off these sorts of people. This one bothered me, and I couldn't figure out why. Near as I could tell, there were three failures in moral reasoning at work: 1) She had failed to learn one of the basic lessons of adulthood, namely, that other people are not responsible for one's own actions; 2) She offered a bad-faith excuse for her behavior when she mentioned the scoring problem, which wasn't a problem until she required one--and, anyway, it was caused by her actions; 3) She was rude and insulting.

Still, these people don't bother me after the fact. Usually, I complain about them with my coworkers and we laugh at how ridiculous they are. Another customer, with whom I had been having a friendly conversation at the counter before the boy's mother interrupted us, expressed her amazement at the woman's behavior. I dismissed it, "Eh, she's a bitch." But it still bugged me. Then, about an hour later, it hit me. I realized why her behavior bothered me as much as it did.

She behaved this way in front of her son. She was telling her son that it's alright to blame others for his mistakes and to do whatever it takes to get others to pay for them, even if rudeness and dishonesty are the means to that end. Once I realized this, I imagined myself in the mother's situation. The correct way to handle this, I thought, would be to explain to my son that, although he dropped his drink accidentally, and that accidents happen, he's not entitled to another one. Then I might have given him some more money to buy one--or not, depending on whether I wanted to emphasize the "accidents happen" or the "you're responsible for your actions" part of the lesson. I would not have done what she did.

Double Feature

I'm old enough to remember the old Transformers cartoons, so the prospect of a feature film stirred powerful feelings of nostalgia within me. I saw it last week, and I'm happy to report that the film itself left me thoroughly satisfied. For what it is, it works well. An online acquaintance likened the experience to Batman Begins and The Matrix. I think that's about right, as far as these things go.

The only movie I was more excited about this summer was released on Friday. That would be the Bourne Ultimatum. Matt Damon does a fantastic job in the first two Bourne movies of playing the too-cool title character, and both Identity and Supremacy are extraordinarily well directed; the third installment, it seems, only improves on its predecessors. What's more, the estimable Roger Ebert--whose recovery and return to the Chicago Sun-Times is another welcome development--heartily recommends it.

Ignorantia Juris Non Excusat

"Courts don't make law; legislatures do." This is false, although lots of people believe otherwise. And no wonder, since apparently you don't even need to have heard about the difference between statutory law and case law in order to become a conservative talk show host. In fact, if you're a conservative talk show host, you can talk about all sorts of things about which you know nothing. Witness, for example, this candid exchange between least-worst Republican candidate Mitt Romney and know-nothing Iowa radio host Jan Mickelson on Mormonism and abortion.

I'm not convinced that Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court decision that effectively legalized abortion in the United States, was rightly decided, but I have a couple of arguments to support that position, and at least I know the first thing about the law. Furthermore, I'm fairly certain that I could opine at least as ignorantly about Mormonism as Jan Mickelson. Give me a radio show!

Bring Back PBO!

I spent some time tonight reading through old entries in my online journal, which I've kept since 2002. (Apologies to any would-be stalkers. It's private.) One thing I noticed--aside from the writing itself, which isn't bad, exactly, but it calls way too much attention to itself--was a lot of obsessing over Puzzle Bobble Online. No doubt you've seen or played Puzzle Bobble in its Western incarnation, Bust-A-Move. It's the arcade game with the arrow and the colored bubbles. Connect enough like-colored bubbles and they disappear, along with any other bubbles that are hanging from them. Fail to clear them before they pass below the bottom of the screen and you lose.

Puzzle Bobble Online was an online multiplayer version of the game. It never received a legitimate release. The only Westerners who played PBO had to stumble through Japanese language websites to play a test--beta--version of the game. After the beta period ended, Westerners were shut out altogether. Shortly after this, the game disappeared.

The reason why is a mystery. It's also a shame. I'd pay to play, and I remember lots of my fellow addicts were equally willing to do so. This might have something to do with the fact that I was one of the best players. This isn't me being dishonest, either, although perhaps it's immodest and indecorous for me to say so. Nevertheless, I was capable of winning 1-on-5 matches; I rarely lost matches with better odds, unless I was facing the very best players, against whom I could compete competently, given 3-on-3 teams. It was a lot of fun. You'd think Taito, the company responsible for the Puzzle Bobble games, would allow people like me to give them money.

Hilary Clinton: Good Writer?

The New York Times has published pieces of personal correspondance between Hilary Clinton and one of her college friends. The sophistication and the intelligence behind them are both striking.

The Results Of The Social Sciences, In A Nutshell

That WSJ graph I linked to last time spurred some academic infighting with economists and sociologists comparing the relative sizes, and the scientific valdity, of their, uh, "departments." I'd link to that, except this parody of economics is much more interesting.

Laffter Curves

Think of the great cosmic questions whose answers continue to elude us: What's the deal with the cosmological constant? How do we deal with qualia? Where does language come from? Why is there something rather than nothing? What is consciousness? Why did evolutionary forces favor senescence? Are the laws of logic inviolable? Alongside these, few look more important by comparison, but there is at least one, both more puzzling and more pressing than any of them: How does the Wall Street Journal maintain such a great news section and such a terrible editorial page at the same time? Case in point.

Look, I'm not anti-economics by any means. I'm not anti-neoclassical economics. I am not a socialist. And I believe there's obviously some elasticity of income relative to tax rates, so the Laffer curve almost certainly exists somewhere and to some extent, but it ain't the curve on that graph, and the WSJ's assertion otherwise would be offensive if its mendacity wasn't so hilariously obvious. Like Sauron's ring, it wants to be found.

The White Stripes Go Bowling

Yes, I work there. No, I wasn't able to attend. I was out of town at the time, although I did attend the concert proper, which was fantastic. One of my coworkers got a bowling pin signed by Jack White, and I'm going to try to convince him to give it to me. Regardless, I did get one of the bowling balls he used.

At The Buddy Guy Concert

"Would you shut the fuck up. You ain't gonna learn shit if you don't let me talk." Buddy Guy said this to an obnoxious fan, although he was nice about it and he let the drunken lout stay. The crowd, also annoyed by the guy, responded with rapturous applause.

"He's as good as B.B. or Clapton." Fans sitting behind me said this at the show. Buddy Guy is a good guitarist, but he's not as good as B.B. King or Eric Clapton. Those two are in the top five of all time; Buddy, as great as he is, isn't. Still, it's a credit to his showmanship that he can conjure up this sort of hyperbole to the minds and in the mouths of his audience.

50,000 Songs Later II

According to last.fm, my most played song is Alejandro Escovedo's "Five Hearts Breaking." The live version on More Miles Than Money: Live 1994-1996 is the best I've heard. My second most played song, amusingly enough, is William Shatner's "Real." I tend to listen to entire albums rather than individual songs, so this list isn't as meaningful, but I thought those two songs were worth noting.

50,000 Songs Later

For almost three years now, last.fm has logged the music I've played on my computer and on my iPod. The website generates personalized charts, recommendations, and radio stations based on its users' listening habits. And like every other website these days, there are plenty of social networking features thrown in. Anyway, the number of tracks recorded on my profile just exceeded 50,000. So I thought it'd be a good time to take stock. Here are my top 15 artists:

Bob Dylan
Lucinda Williams
Townes Van Zandt
The White Stripes
Bruce Springsteen
Alejandro Escovedo
Rodney Crowell
Ryan Adams
Feist
Dwight Yoakam
Patty Griffin
The Hold Steady
Emmylou Harris
Guy Clark
Frank Zappa

Ryan Adams would be right near Lu Williams if you added all of his myriad incarnations together. I've no doubt that Albert King would be on the list if only I'd discovered him a year earlier. Lastly, while I listen to a lot of indie rock, the flavor-of-the-month aspect to it means that, with few exceptions, you don't see it show up anywhere near the top of the list.

The Other Betty Davis

"He was a big freak / I used to say all kinds of dirty things." Intrigued? Here's another snippet: "He was a big freak / Pain was his middle name / He was a big freak / He used to laugh when I'd make him cry / He was a big freak--a big freak, yes he was / I used to whip him with my turquoise chain." It's hard to imagine a song with those lyrics on the radio today, let alone in 1974. But 1974 is the year Betty Davis released that song, "He Was A Big Freak," on her sophomore album, They Say I'm Different. It's only barely the raciest song on the record.

Davis combined raw, raucous vocal performances with eminently danceable funk. She's been called the "black Janis Joplin," a "one-woman Funkadelic," and funk's "nasty gal." She married, briefly, to Miles Davis. During that time, she exterted tremendous influence on him, spurring him to create Bitches Brew, thereby inventing jazz-rock fusion. But Miles divorced her after only one year of marriage; her close relationship--and possibly an affair--with Jimi Hendrix is the oft-cited reason. Is it any wonder, then, that her albums feature plenty of Hendrix-inspired guitar riffs alongside one of the best rhythm sections ever assembled?

The self-titled Betty Davis and its follow-up were--and still are--the hardest, dirtiest funk recordings around. Both albums were re-released this year by Light in the Attic Records. These records didn't sell when they were released in the '70s, and they're being re-released by an indie label, so they won't sell today. But give 'em a listen.

It's The Phenotype, Stupid!

Scientists have shown that, after the first child, it's all downhill from there. Tell me something I don't know.

Explaining Intonation

It's come to my attention that not everyone knew what I meant when I said that Korean is not a tonal language.

A tonal language is a language whose meanings are affected by intonation, which refers to the rise and fall of the voice when speaking. Read this sentence: "The jury voted to convict Scooter Libby." Now read this one: "Convicts, like Scooter Libby, should serve their jail sentences immediately." The first sentence uses "conVICT," while the second uses "CONvict." It's the same word, but different intonation creates different meanings; intonation also affects meanings at the sentence level, though I'll leave you to come up with your own examples. Languages that aren't affected by intonation are easier to learn, all other things being equal.

안녕하세요!

The title translates, roughly, into "Hello!" It's romanized as "annyong haseyo" and it's pronounced, roughly, like "ahn yawng hah seh yoh." But faster.

I'm doing a language swap with a Korean student at the U of S Language Center. The Korean language is surprisingly intuitive. It was specifically designed that way, actually.

Oh! By the way, contrary to the assertion of the linguist I linked to in my last post, Korean is not a tonal language. It's a minor point, but I thought I'd mention it.

There Is An Article. The Article Is At Edge. You Should Read It. But Only If You Want To.

Edge has a very long and very interesting discussion of the Pirahã language and culture over at its site. If you're not familiar with the big debates in linguistics, consider searching for "Sapir-Whorf hypothesis" and "Chomsky + universal grammar" before you read the article. If you are familiar with those folks and their ideas, go read it already!

Shit-Hot Art

Kristin has posted some art drawn on bathroom stalls. Check it out if you haven't already.

Irony

Isn't it ironic that libertarians by and large don't believe in liberty?
Not really ironic. Just symptomatic of their stupidity.
What does that say about me, then, if I can't use "irony" properly?
Well, I'm not sure, but it's ironic.

RIP

Richard Rorty died yesterday. Rorty was one of the most important and influential philosophers of his generation, not to mention one of the most controversial. His influence reached far beyond the confines of both philosophy and academia. I can't say I agree with all, or even most, of his positions. But Rorty had a radical vision for philosophy--one that, I believe, most philosophers have sadly (and sorely) missed. He, too, will be sorely missed.

Icky Thump

The blues are back. On the White Stripes' new album, Icky Thump, the best rock band in America jumps back to the blues influences of its earlier work after sojourning in piano-and-percussion-land on 2005's Get Behind Me Satan. But Icky is no rehash. On the contrary, it's the most inventive--and, at times, downright bizarre--album in the White Stripes' discography. Really, there's no other word but bizarre to describe songs like "Conquest." Indeed, that sentence is mildly incoherent--because there aren't any other songs like "Conquest." It's Tarzan-meets-'70s sci-fi. Just imagine that crew rocking out in your garage.

But alongside the delightfully eccentric experiments, there are some conventional rockers that fans of Elephant (and earlier work) will appreciate. "You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told)" is one example, and it's one of the Stripes' best songs. And those who prefer their guitars screeching and squeeling will find plenty to like, including the first hit single from the album, its title track. Near the end, though, things slow down a bit. "A Martyr For My Love For You" dials down the guitars in favor of near-balladry, and Icky ends on a characteristically lighter note with "Effect & Cause."

Anyhow, it all adds up to another triumph for Jack White and the White Stripes. How many is that now? Four? Five?

Fringe Benefits

One of the disadvantages of graduating is losing access to university webspace, say, to host and share music files on one's blog.

Free Book!

I have an extra hardcover copy of The Complete Greek Tragedies, Volume 1: Aeschylus, edited by Grene and Lattimore. This book is the standard edition of Aeschylus' plays. Caveat: The Suppliant Maidens is unreadable in this copy due to pagination/printing errors, but I've read all of the Greek tragedies and, frankly, Suppliants isn't all that great anyway. Otherwise, the book is in great condition. It's worth about $50, but I'll give it away if it'll find a good home. If you think you'd make use of it, leave a comment or email me.

UPDATE: It's gone now. Sorry, folks.

What Is Wrong With Women?

Joss Whedon, the creator of Buffy, asks the question.

Flax Plus

How is it?
It doesn't taste good or bad. It doesn't taste at all, really.
Does the milk help?
No. In fact, the cereal seems to absorb the milk's taste. The whole thing doesn't taste like anything.
So it tastes like nothing?
Hey, maybe the cereal has, like, negative taste. Once it comes into contact with milk, it destroys the milk's taste.
Flax Plus is the antimatter of cereal!

By Means Of A Faculty

In his Critique of Pure Reason, Kant asks, "How is synthetic a priori knowledge possible?" Kant's answer? "By means of a faculty." But, unfortunately, not in five words.

Fans of Nietzsche might recognize this quotation. It's a caricature of Kant, but it's pithy and clever. Turns out Kant isn't the only one it applies to; we can say just about the same thing about scientists today:

We only showed that brains might possess a faculty which free will could potentially be based on.

Actually, unlike Kant, they didn't even show this. Popular science, particularily pop science writing in the mass media, is depressingly terrible, but as a special bonus this article comes chock full of terrible philosophy, too. Almost every paragraph is an irredeemable mess of unfounded assumptions and egregious argumentation. Too bad neither the scientist nor the reporter who wrote the story stuck to a five-word limit.

Lnaugage Werdinses

Isn't it raemrkable taht you can raed this whtiuot too much dfificltuy eevn toghuh the lteters are all mxied up? As lnog as all of the lteters are tehre and as long as the frist and lsat lettres are corecrt, most ppeole can read athinyng, reardgelss of how the ltteers are arngerad wthiin the wrdos thselemves.

Guantanamo Rant

I expect that this won't be up for long, but it's scathing and brilliant. James Spader is one of the finest actors on TV and this clip proves it.

Getting Some Seoul

The free trade agreement between the United States and South Korea hasn't received much attention. It's too bad. It's an important deal for both countries. One of these days I'll have to blog about my support for free trade policies (and outsourcing!). For now, though, suffice it to say that I'd like to see the Conservative government pursue a similar deal for Canada. Actually, you'd expect the Conservatives, particularly Stephen Harper, to be interested in this sort of thing. I see the NDP has already started its anti-trade scare campaign, so maybe there's reason to be hopeful.

Pardon The Interruption

Apologies for the light blogging lately. I've rediscovered sleep and exercise after both went on hiatus for several months. Unfortunately, my obscene workload for my TEFL class means that I have less time to spend online. On the bright side, however, it looks like my class will help to streamline my writing. Studying the English language and learning how to teach it are better ways to develop good writing habits than writing endless academic papers, even, sadly, English papers.

I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

The White Stripes, Buddy Guy, and Herbie Hancock all make their way to Saskatoon this summer from June 23-July 1. It'll be one helluva week for live music--and an expensive one once I get my Visa statement!

My Name's Serendipity, What's Yours?

I can see that there'll be several benefits to my TEFL class. Certainly, I'm glad I decided to take it, despite the non-negligible cost of doing so. But one thing I didn't expect was to meet someone else intent on teaching English abroad at the same time as me. We're two of only three university (soon-to-be) grads in the class. The other one wants to teach English in China so that he can be with his girlfriend, who lives there.

Anyway, this woman I met is a psychology major, interested in grad school but also interested in some time away from academia. I can relate to that, definitely. We're both the same age. And we're both set on going, alone or not, but we'd both love to have company. It's a bit premature to make plans now, but we talked about it a bit today, and things might work out well. We'll see. Employers love to hire two people who know each other because it reduces the risk of homesickness, which leads to broken contracts, which cost them money. So we'd have that going for us.

Ethics Is Hard

I began a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) Intensive class on Monday. Today we had the opportunity to observe some TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language) classes. (The difference, by the way, is where the class are taught. TEFL classes are taught in non-English countries and TESL classes are taught in English countries). Awesome experience. I loved it. We get to tutor some of these students later, and I absolutely cannot wait. Besides the practical experience, though, we have classroom time, which tends to include lots of exercises. These mainly act to reinforce the theory in our texts. This, too, I find valuable.

Today, we had to match teaching materials with the appropriate skill level. One of the reading materials centered around ethics and moral philosophy. There was a brief description of the subject and some etymology of its terms. Apparently this stuff is tougher than I thought because I underestimated the classification of its difficulty, which was at the highest level; the others were lower, and I guessed all of them correctly. Everyone else, of course, not steeped in moral theory, correctly assessed the difficulty of the ethics material. A little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing, right? Well, apparently, so is a lot of knowledge.

The Atlantic Empire

The Atlantic has built some serious credibility in the last little while. Andrew Sullivan moved his blog there awhile back, and now it's the new home of Matt Yglesias.

"This Is Why Pitchfork Sucks"

It's hard not to laugh when an old man well into retirement says this. What's even funnier is that, in this case, he's dead right.

Springsteen-Style Rock

Bruce Springsteen gets a bad rap these days. "Springsteen-style rock" has become a pejorative in some circles. Yet even those who dislike his more bombastic material--e.g. albums like Born in the U.S.A.--ought to give his '80s masterpiece, Nebraska, a couple spins. That album will make a fan out of anyone who appreciates stark, minimalistic folk songs dealing with the lives of the weak and dispossessed in America. Nebraska is the moment Bruce Springsteen arrived as popular music's closest analogue to Raymond Carver. Springsteen attempted to build on the sounds and themes of Nebraska in later efforts: 1995's The Ghost of Tom Joad and 2005's Devils & Dust. Both albums have their moments, but neither succeeds as well as Nebraska. Few do.

Several bands have inherited or appropriated Springsteen's instinct for blue collar story-songs, though they have tended to do so while rocking a lot harder than Nebraska, more akin to Springsteen's Born to Run. Philadelphia's Marah took up the mantle and wore it proudly on their 1998 and 2000 releases: Let's Cut the Crap and Hook Up Later Tonight and Kids in Philly, respectively. Both are excellent albums.


The latter's "It's Only Money, Tyrone," which deals with a man who "slapped his lover / Put a bullet in her brain and threw her body off the bridge," only to be done in by the discovery of her body, recaptures the desperation of Springsteen's "State Trooper." Both songs see their subjects' lives for what they are: pitiful, yes, but also ultimately unchangeable. Like the great Greek tragedies, this is where they get their poignancy. These people are who they are because of how they've lived their lives, and they've lived their lives the way they have because of who they are. [Direct link to .mp3 of "It's Only Money, Tyrone"]

Enter The Hold Steady's Boys and Girls in America, one of the very few albums of 2006 with zero filler. It follows in the tradtion established by Springsteen, and picked up by Marah, of chronicling the lives of regular people to the sound of straight-up rock music. The album opens with the memorable line: "There are nights when I think that Sal Paradise was right / Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together." Their "sad time together" is the focus of this and the next 10 tracks, which are suffused with Catholicism, drugs, and relationships. Over half are downright brilliant. I wouldn't say the same about many other albums released last year.


Stop here and Boys and Girls is an exceptional album. But its most extraordinary moments are all the more impressive played one after another, juxtaposing its greatest virtues: Boys and Girls is musically diverse, yet cohesive; the lyrics are colloquial, yet literate ("Lost in fog and love and faithless fear / I've had kisses that make Judas' seem sincere"); each track stands solidly on its own, yet collectively they tell a story. It's easily the best of last year, and it shows, yet again, that "Springsteen-style rock" isn't a pejorative. [Direct link to .mp3 of "Stuck Between Stations"]

Once again, .mp3 files posted here are meant as samples only, which are up for a limited time. Please support the artists if you like what you hear. Marah, Kids in Philly [Amazon, eMusic] & The Hold Steady, Boys and Girls in America [Amazon, eMusic]

Songbird

I use iTunes with my iBook to manage my music. But Songbird is a good alternative. The application hasn't yet hit version 1.0, so it's not quite ready for prime time, but it looks promising and it has some neat features that other media players lack. For instance, Songbird allows you to access blogs like mine through its web browser. It automagically finds any music files and serves them up for you in a list, allowing you to play or download them. Here's hoping this idea catches on.

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Logicians

Matt Yglesias posted this awhile ago and it stuck with me. Choice excerpt:

The well-intentioned person, being well-intentioned, will try his best to ensure that bad things don't happen. If things that occur as a result of well-intentioned actions are defined as not-so-bad, however, then the well-intentioned person doesn't really need to try his best to ensure that bad things don't happen. After all, the person, being well-intentioned, by definition isn't going to do any very bad things. The things he does, after all, are all well-intentioned things, not bad things.

Matt Yglesias graduated magna cum laude with a degree in philosophy from Harvard University. Knowing this, I wasn't surprised to see him make this sort of argument. It's a pragmatic argument for consequentialism; and it's undeniably clever. The whole thing is worth a read.

Online Privacy

The advent of the Internet and the explosion of online content has led some to worry about the dissolution of personal privacy. Type my name into Google and it's increasingly easy to find this blog among the results; it's even easier if you know a bit about me, like where I live. Should I be worried that a prospective employer will Google my name, see what I've written, and refuse to hire me? If so, what's the solution?

Some people adopt pseudonyms, or they post anonymously. But many others post with their real names, or they leave traces of their offline identity, which are easy to put together. Younger people, especially, seem most willing to serve up their personal information to websites like MySpace, Facebook, and personal blogs. My youngest brother, for example, maintains a personal page at Nexopia. Several months ago he challenged me to find his profile, which contains some personal information that he wanted to keep hidden from me. I found it in four minutes. I can find the same page in four seconds today.

Likewise, I'm sure anyone could do the same to me. But the costs of anonymity outweigh the benefits. If I attach my name to a post, I can be held responsible for it. I have to think before I post. It keeps me honest. Unfortunately, people say things anonymously they wouldn't say otherwise. This isn't always a good thing, as this Penny-Arcade comic amusingly illustrates.

Free Exchange On Health Care

The Economist's Free Exchange blog is on a roll. Among the wonkish economics arguments, they write:

The main things I think America gets for its extra money are shorter wait times, more lavishly appointed hospitals, richer health-care workers, greater variety of treatments, more "quality of life" treatments, and much greater innovation. Indeed, not only do they get innovation, but the rest of the world does too, which is why few people have noticed that their systems stifle innovation. I've never quite understood why people in other countries urge their systems on Americans, when the end result seems almost certain to be lower future quality of their own healthcare.

All of this strikes me as clearly correct, though it's worth noting that Canada could benefit from increased retention of health care workers if the US moves toward socialized medicine. More insightful analysis like this (and this) and less silliness, please.

James Blood Ulmer Has The Blues

The best new blues artist of the last several years isn't exactly a new artist. James Blood Ulmer earned his reputation in music playing electric guitar with jazz legend Ornette Coleman. Ulmer was the first electric guitarist to record and tour with Coleman in the '70s. From there, and throughout his solo career, he built an impressive body of work in jazz over the course of two decades. At the turn of the century, Ulmer left jazz and turned to the blues. Fans of the genre are lucky to have him.

2001's Memphis Blood is the first of three albums released on Hyena Records. It's an audacious blues debut. Every song is a cover. Many equal or surpass their antecedents. Give a listen to Ulmer's take on John Lee Hooker's "Dimples" and you'll get a good idea of what to expect [Direct link to .mp3 of "Dimples"]. His second album, No Escape From The Blues, continues on this tack, but it mixes in some originals as well.


The third Hyena release is 2005's Birthright. It marks a departure from his earlier two. Whereas those albums feature Ulmer's guitar and vocals against the backdrop of an excellent band, Birthright is all Ulmer. All 12 songs feature his vocals alone with his guitar. 10 are originals. The effect is astonishing for its minimalism and impressive for its musicianship. Ulmer has a distinctively rough guitar-picking style, and nowhere is this more apparent than on Birthright. Listening to "High Yellow," it's hard to think of any adjective more appropriate than "edgy." "Geechee Joe" is another highlight and an instant classic. [Direct links to .mp3's of "High Yellow" and "Geechee Joe"]

If you enjoy these samples, consider supporting Ulmer by buying his music. Memphis Blood: Amazon; eMusic. No Escape From The Blues: Amazon; eMusic. Birthright: Amazon; eMusic.

NOTE: Music files available here are meant to be samples only, and only for a limited time. Please support the people who produce the music by buying it if you enjoy it.

Food For Oil

The Conservative government announced $1.5-billion for biofuels in the last budget. This met with approval from farm groups because it promises to raise the price of their product. But environmentalists should be wary before they throw their support behind it. Studies show that ethanol is not the answer to greenhouse gas emissions; this Parliamentary study, for example, provides a sobering analysis of its impact. Now, we shouldn't abandon good half-measures because they fail to solve the problem, but it isn't clear that ethanol is a good half-measure. $1.5-billion is a large investment for such a small return.

Furthermore, this article in Foreign Affairs argues, rightly, that high food prices, while good for farmers, are bad for people who buy food. The people most badly hurt, of course, are those who can't afford the higher prices. There are better ways to protect the environment than distorting world markets, driving up the price of food.

Inequality In The Air

Free Exchange on inequality:

ACCORDING to the new tax data, the income gap has widened. This has led to more speculation that we will descend into a Dickensian dystopia full of the have and have nots. I recently experienced this type of reality when I had the opportunity to fly business class on a trans-Atlantic flight.

Uh-huh. Business class flights are the best example of inequality run amok. This is like complaining that your Segway doesn't go fast enough. Maybe that automated stroller just isn't for you; it could be time to think about walking. The Economist is a good magazine, but posts like this don't help to build its credibility online.

Why I Write

It's been a week and, if my stats are to be believed, I have readers. Plural. Several dozen of them! For the benefit of my readers, I suppose I should say a bit about the blog beyond my brief introductory post.

I planned to start a blog once I started travelling so that I could continue to communicate with family and friends easily and efficiently. Daniel, though, convinced me to start earlier. Feel free to head over to his site to blame him for that. I expect that the content I post will evolve with my experiences. Once I start travelling, I'll write more about my personal experiences, post photos, etc. At the same time, I doubt I'll stop talking about politics, music, and ideas because those are the things that overwhelmingly occupy my mind and I don't see that changing much. Anyway, I'm not convinced that these things are all that different: ideas and arguments--or at least the good ones--are always and everywhere rooted in experience.

Piracy As Theft

CD sales plummeted 20% over the last year. Digital sales have increased, but nowhere near enough to offset the drop in CD sales. The record industry blames this on piracy. File-sharing advocates, on the other hand, have long blamed slumps in music sales on the poor quality of new releases, or on the expense of CDs, or on the restrictions put on digital downloads, or any number of similar stories.

None of these, however, are persuasive. First, note that these arguments are suspiciously self-serving; they attempt to justify the behavior of the people who espouse them. Second, notice that the structure of these arguments follows a pattern: they always blame the record industry, while never contesting the fact that file sharing is occurring. On the contrary, they tacitly concede that illicit downloading hurts the music industry. But this harm, they claim, is self-inflicted, or at least avoidable. It's the victim's record industry's fault.

Color me skeptical. People who download all of their music and never pay for any of it are not doing the record industry a favor. They are free riding off of the people who do pay for music, without whom the free riders' favorite downloads wouldn't exist. Studio time isn't free and neither is production, packaging, and marketing. Neither, for that matter, is food and housing for the people who make their living off of the production and sale of recorded music. These people depend on music sales for their livelihood; refusing to pay for recorded music harms them. Blithe disregard for these consequences is not virtuous. Downloaders who refuse to pay for music are acting selfishly, thoughtlessly, and unethically.

Of course, not all file sharers harm the record industry. I'm confident, for example, that file-sharing services have increased the amount of money I spend on music. I pay $30 every month for 100 downloads from eMusic and I buy at least a dozen CDs every year. All told, I spend at least $500 a year on recorded music, which is much more than I spent before BitTorrent. In my case, Internet piracy has filled the role of bootlegs and mix tapes; it has increased, rather than decreased, my interest and enthusiasm for music. I pay for music not because I couldn't get it for free, but because I appreciate and I want to support the people who produce it. Clearly, though, the numbers tell a different story about how widespread piracy affects behavior. It's a worrying trend for those of us who would like to see the industry healthy and profitable, and it's distressing to hear the self-serving defenses of people who, apparently, couldn't care less.

Interview With God

I suppose the Interview With God is an appropriate link for Easter weekend. But I've always found the presentation calming to watch, regardless. [Flash + Audio]

Lucinda Williams' West

West is the latest album from Lucinda Williams. It arrives on the heels of Patty Griffin's latest, Children Running Through. Both artists share many of the same fans, and both have inhabited the same musical territory, so a comparison between them isn't out of the question. I'm happy to heap plenty of praise on the latter, which is one of the strongest releases of the year; but I'll take this opportunity to talk about the former, and whether or not I believe it stacks up.

I own legitimate hard copies of every Lucinda Williams CD, with the exception of her first album of covers, Ramblin', of which I have a digital copy. In light of this, you might safely infer that I think there's much more to her than her latest albums. In fact, it was "I Just Wanted to See You So Bad," the first track off of her self-titled album--and the first song of hers that I heard--that got me hooked. Essence and World Without Tears brought her to the attention of the NPR-listening indie rockers, and they brought her plenty of rave reviews, but neither was her best album, not by a long shot. World Without Tears was praised as such. And like Bob Dylan's Love And Theft, it was good: solid A-/B+ work, turned in on a tight deadline; but it wasn't the best work of someone who's already an A student. Ask most of her fans these days, though, and you might get an argument here.

Regardless, few songwriters could compete, album for album, with her string of original work beginning with Happy Woman Blues and culminating in one of the greatest albums ever made, Car Wheels On A Gravel Road. Only some of the greatest songwriters can challenge her here, let alone beat her: Bob Dylan and Townes Van Zandt could do it, but few others. So, Essence and World Without Tears, while good, can't help but lose a few marks when graded on the curve set by Williams' own discography.

Amid all of this, then, where does West sit? Well, World Without Tears received near-universal critical acclaim. West will not; and, indeed, has not. It is more divisive, partly because it's similar stylistically to her later work, and also because, sooner or later, critically-lauded artists face inevitable backlashes. But West is also, I think, a bit better than World Without Tears; accordingly, I am not surprised to see some of the more serious (as opposed to trendy) reviewers lavish praise upon it. I don't think it's her best work, but it's likely the best of her last three albums.

Musically, Williams is known for her voice, sometimes rough around the edges, but also remarkably expressive and unmistakably American. Against this, she juxtaposes a unique blend of country, folk, rock, and blues styles. If folk and country won out on her work up to Car Wheels, sounding most like Steve Earle's '90s work, adult alternative rock won out afterward. West continues this. But there are a few rockers, which dial down the softer pop sound while mixing in some harder-edged stuff, venturing deeper into blues stylings. "Come On"--which is about her ex-lover's inability to make her...well, come-- couldn't be more jagged, either lyrically or musically. Those, like me, who grew tired with the day-at-the-beach feel of some of the post-Car Wheels material will feel a bit more at home with this one.

I won't say too much about the lyrics. "Learning How To Live" is one of her weakest songs in this (but not only this) respect. But others, like "Fancy Funeral," are as touching as anything she's ever done. "Words" is another highlight; it serves as a nice statement of Lucinda Williams' station as a great American songwriter. Anyway, she's a wonderful writer, whose '90s work earned her the title of America's Greatest Songwriter from Time Magazine, so it's worth giving her a look if you haven't already. Her myspace page features a few songs from her latest album.

Getting back to the start of this post, is West better than Patty Griffin's Children Running Through? The answer is: Probably not. If I could get only one of the two, I would choose Children. Lucinda Williams has done better, more memorable work with her more rootsy country-folk records. But West is a good record, on a par with, or better than, her last two. Fans looking for another masterpiece will be disappointed. But those looking for some more good songs should be satisfied. If this isn't the best record of the year, it is a welcome and worthy release all the same.

Politics Of The English Language

Stanley Fish described Orwell's "Politics and the English Language" as "turgid, self-righteous, and philosophically hopeless" in the New York Times Book Review. I don't dare to criticize Orwell for turgidity or self-righteousness. I am not so confident in myself to levy such criticisms at people like him. But I sympathize with the accusation of philosophical hopelessness.

Prescriptivism in linguistics is the idea that rules exist for the use of language, and good quality writing demands adherence to these rules. Sometimes, of course, prescriptivism is correct. There are important rules that govern language use, whose violation is an impediment to clear and effective communication. Other times, however, prescriptivists out themselves as rule fetishists. You can see this brand of prescriptivism at work wherever there are English teachers who insist, baselessly, that it is "wrong" or "ungrammatical" to end a sentence with a preposition; or that infinitives, like inseams, mustn't ever be split without embarrassment; and, finally--one of Orwell's bugbears--that the use of the passive voice must be minimized, if not eliminated. English teachers, and no one else, maintain and enforce these rules, though they manage to convince some English speakers to adhere to them.

None of these rules are defensible.^[*] See here and here for the sad story of how we managed to get to the point where people are educated into ignorance about prepositions at the end of sentences; or note, with amusement, that Orwell himself used the passive voice more often than his peers. Split infinitives, arguably, create inelegant constructions, but surely no one misunderstood the voiceover introduction to Star Trek because it decided to boldly go. In what sense, then, is it "wrong?" Unfortunately, too many people, including otherwise intelligent men like George Orwell, readily attempt to enforce spurious rules of language. See this excellent post for an analysis of why people do this, and try, like I do, to let it go next time you are tempted to do it.

^[*]If you thought I ought to have used the singular there, add that rule to the list.

Living With Darwin by Philip Kitcher

"From the perspective of almost the entire community of natural scientists world-wide, continued resistance to Darwin is absurd." So says Philip Kitcher in his new book, Living With Darwin. This will surprise no one familiar with the state of biology today, yet the politics of evolution are not so simple. No doubt many will disbelieve that the scientific community is as united as Kitcher says it is. After all, what does he know? Here, however, Kitcher stands on firm ground with the support of strong credentials: Kitcher is the John Dewey Professor of Philosophy at Columbia University, and his area of expertise is in the history and philosophy of science. This book is not his first on the debate over evolution, though it assumes no familiarity with his previous work.

Intelligent design is the new challenger to what is now called the neo-Darwinian synthesis, which is Darwinian evolution by natural selection combined with Mendelian genetics. Living With Darwin clarifies and adjudicates the debate between these two camps. Kitcher strongly supports Darwin over intelligent design, and if this is all there was to his book, it would be yet another--if unusually lucid and succinct--exegesis in an already crowded field. But this is not all there is to Kitcher's book.

More seriously, however, books like these are open to the charge of preaching to the choir: The kind of person who will read this book is not the kind of person who needs to read it. Perhaps. But Kitcher avoids these pitfalls as much as possible. Anyone who can read can read Living With Darwin; and few will be turned off by his argument style, which is careful and compassionate, sharply contrasting with people like Richard Dawkins, who Kitcher admits sound harsh and insensitive to thoughtful religious believers.

Against some of his peers, Kitcher argues that intelligent design is science, but it is dead science. On his riveting tour through the history of the debate, Kitcher shows that intelligent design is science in the same way that alchemy is science: Scientists at one time believed in its truth, but those scientists have been shown to be wrong. Accordingly, its only place in schools is in history of science and philosophy classes. But Kitcher adds another indictment: He argues that intelligent design cannot accommodate the kind of claims its adherents would like it to. The people who sell intelligent design, therefore, are rather like intellectual con artists. They know that people want a theory that can support supernatural religious claims, usually belief in the Bible; but they also know that intelligent design cannot offer such support. Their willingness to sell it to these people constitutes an intellectual fraud. Kitcher emphasizes the mendacity of these people, who know that if the public understood the theory, they would realize that it offers no more respite for embattled religious convictions than does belief in Darwinian evolution.

The first four chapters, which total 116 short pages, are a powerful defense of Darwinism against its rivals. But the heart of the book--where it makes its greatest contribution--is the final chapter, which runs to 50 pages. This is where Kitcher deals with the psychological motivations for intelligent design and the future of faith. His observations are unusually insightful but, at the same time, as charitable as possible to religious believers.

Surprisingly, Kitcher agrees with religious opponents to Darwin; evolution is dangerous to faith, or at least to a certain kind of faith. It is dangerous to what he calls "providentialist" faith. This is the religious faith, held by most people, which asserts the existence of a God who intervenes in the world. Evolution chips away at some of the last remaining reasons to believe in this God; and since beliefs require evidence to sustain them, this means that religious belief is in danger. In the story of his own intellectual journey, Kitcher tells us that these considerations motivated him to become an atheist. Though he does not believe that Darwinism necessitates atheism, it does make it more attractive; and it makes almost all forms of religion untenable. The only exception is non-providentialist religion, which eschews supernaturalism altogether. This, however, is not the kind of religion religious people want. They want something or someone to breathe meaning into their lives.

So: religion, for Kitcher, is a crutch, and he supports this with an impressive display of knowledge of the history of Christianity and the Bible. The Enlightenment has steadily eroded reasons to believe in God. Religion remains not because there is good evidence to support it, but largely because it gives life meaning. He quotes William James:

For naturalism, fed on recent cosmological speculations, mankind is in a position similar to that of a set of people living on a frozen lake, surrounded by cliffs over which there is no escape, yet knowing that little by little the ice is melting, and the inevitable day drawing near when the last film of it will disappear, and to be drowned ignominiously will be the human creature's portion. The merrier the skating, the warmer and more sparkling the sun by day, and the ruddier the bonfires at night, the more poignant the sadness with which one must take in the meaning of the total situation.

Intelligent design is the last desperate stride of skaters attempting to outrun the cracks in the ice behind them.

But doesn't this completely destroy my claim that Kitcher's book is compassionate, readable by anyone? Surely this amounts to smug superiority, right? Well, Kitcher admits that all of us, atheists included, are stuck on the ice. We all need comfort. Religion provides meaning where other areas of inquiry have failed, including recent philosophy, "which has found little time for larger questions about the meaning and value of human lives." Kitcher again quotes James approvingly:

"The whole function of philosophy ought to be to find out what definite difference it will make to you and me, at definite instants of our life if this world-formula or that world-formula be the true one." Yet if philosophers since James have treated the questions of how "world-formulas" bear on human lives with distaste or disdain, writers and artists have been less fastidious, exploring the possibilities for meaningful life in a world beyond supernaturalism. One way to do philosophy as James conceived it would be to explain and elaborate on literary and artistic insights.

Philosophy isn't the only player that needs to change: Kitcher argues that we also need to address the "harsh competitiveness of American life...the vapidity of much secular culture, and above all, the absence of real community." Religion fulfills these roles, and these are its great virtues.

Living With Darwin is as good a book on the subject as anyone could have asked for. It is as sensitive as possible, without being dishonest. It is as lucid and succinct as possible, without being unscholarly or unrigorous. And, as a third way between providentialist religion and Dawkins-style atheism, it is most welcome. I'll close with a quote from the final paragraph of the book:

There is truth in Marx's dictum that religion, more precisely supernaturalist and providentialist religion, is the opium of the people., but the consumption should be seen as medical rather than recreational. The most ardent apostles of science and reason recommend immediate withdrawal of the drug--but they do not acknowledge the pain that would be left unpalliated, pain too intense for their stark atheism to be a viable solution. Genuine medicine is needed, and the proper treatment consists of showing how lives can matter.

Boldly Going Where Everyone Has Gone Before

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