Monday, December 31, 2018

2018 in Books


Keeping the tradition alive. This year I read what is likely a record lowest number of books perhaps since high school. After the richness of last year's reading, 2018 was a bit humdrum, and there are a fair number of 2-star works on here. Nonetheless, here's what I read:

Nonfiction

The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon

For nearly six years I slowly made my way through this work. At one point Gibbon mentions “historians of blood” – which I am not. I have very little interest in battles, rulers, and such. The work continues through the entirety of the Byzantine era, and Gibbon does not consider the exercise complete until the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1493. Thousands of names and hundreds of battles later, I remember almost no details, and consider it mostly a waste, except for Gibbon’s amusing asides and reflections.

Well Met: Renaissance Faires & The American Counterculture by Rachel Lee Rubin

Noticeably repetitive, Rubin still manages to make a strong point in her work tracing the role of the Faire’s origins in the 1960s to the utopian visions of that decade to the continuing role as a safe space for genderqueer patrons and others. The last chapter is perhaps the oddest, looking at the role of faire in literature, but all in all a worthwhile study.

Wonderful Life by Stephen Jay Gould

Thirty years have passed since Gould’s popular account of the Cambrian and the now-more-famous Burgess Shale. The basic thrust is that contingency is more important to evolution than popularly considered. This volume is the record-holder for longest on my shelf, having stayed there from either late middle or early high school. Having tackled his more complex academic work last year I found Wonderful Life to be more accessible, but a little bit overstuffed.

These Truths by Jill Lepore

A massive, 800-page history of the United States, from Columbus to Trump. The focus is fairly exclusively political, and, excepting some troubling omissions (in particular Native American citizenship when citizenship is one of her main themes), it is a very worthwhile, and arguably very important book to read.

The Fifth Risk by Michael Lewis

Quick, fascinating, and significant. Lewis charts how an administrative hollowing-out of the US government (focusing on the Departments of Energy, Agriculture, and Commerce) poses an unexpected risk to our country – even more, actually, than someone (who finds the idea of "hollowing out"  fairly scary) might already expect.

Fiction

Point Counter Point by Aldous Huxley

Just prior to Brave New World Huxley wrote this very funny, but also rather acidic, account of intellectual pretensions in England in the 1920s. The cast is based on real personalities (DH Lawrence, Oswald Mosley, Huxley himself) but that fact is in no way necessary to enjoy the work.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey

One of those works I had meant to read for some time. I had greatly disliked the movie, but this showed me that was more Jack Nicholson, and not the main character. Problematic and dated, of course, but in all I understand why its reputation holds, and could see myself recommending this to the right person.

Confessions of Zeno by Italo Svevo

Perhaps if I’d encountered Svevo’s work before Joyce, or Woolf, or other, better, Modernists, I’d have more appreciation for his style. As is the main character is what is now considered a stock unreliable narrator, a sort of pre-stream-of-consciousness version of Roth’s Portnoy.

Devil on the Cross by Ngugi Wa Thiong’o

In an ongoing attempt to broaden horizons I figured I’d read this classic by a Kenyan author who wrote the work while imprisoned. Not all that surprising, then, that the resulting work is a bit preachy and defiantly righteous – it reminded me of Lang’s Metropolis in tone – while having some interesting experimental structure.

Appointment in Samarra by John O’Hara

After slogging through psychological portraits that I found unpleasant, O’Hara’s cast was wonderfully human, tragic without a capital ‘T’, and relatable. His use of language and description was also vivid, a quality I was starting to miss.

A Coffin for Dimitrios by Eric Ambler

A fun spy novel – indeed, apparently the “birth of the modern spy novel” – which has a typical fast-paced plot and lots of fun twists and turns.

The Sound of the Mountain by Yasunari Kawabata

Interesting in blending the aging father’s psychology with the unpleasantness of dealing with his adult children’s struggling marriages. A good read.

As kingfishers catch fire by Gerard Manley Hopkins

My father bought me the complete Penguin Little Black Classics. These short (50-ish page) volumes are often extracts. Many, being short stories and extracts, I will not bother to include here. However, this volume was a selection of Hopkins’ best poetic work, which I thoroughly enjoyed, as one previously unfamiliar with his verse.

The nightingales are drunk by Hafez

Another Penguin LBC, this one containing the poetry of Hafez, a Sufi writer of the 1200s. Along with Sadi, Rumi, and Omar Khayyam, Hafez is considered a master, and I was glad to finally engage with his work.

Remember, body by CP Cavafy

Yet another Penguin LBC – and another poet whom I’d never bothered to get to, and whose work was powerful and excellent. For each of these LBCs mentioned, there are another three which are not; but this work was very enjoyable.

Independent People by Halldor Laxness

A peasant epic of the highest order, with a strong message of how finance can come to ruin good, hardworking people – a seemingly timeless moral, given its native Icelandic setting’s recent banking woes. Has the common issues of books of a certain age with regards to women and others, but as its written from the tonal point of view of the bigoted and stubborn sheep-crofter, perhaps that’s a narrative license.

Dear Life by Alice Munro

The Canadian Nobel laureate’s collection of recent short fiction left a mark – the stories are excellent, and clearly destined to be classics. Oddly, their power was blunted, perhaps, by the fact that so many modern short story authors are so indebted to her now-commonplace narrative and time-hopping style.

The Family of Pascual Duarte by Camilo Jose Cela

A short, violent existentialist work of life in rural Spain lived by an unreliable couple of sets of narrators. A definite page-turner and intriguing work with a lack of moral but lots of profound reflections.

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane

It’s genuinely odd to read a war novel, anymore, that is triumphal and holds a nineteenth century view of battle as glorious – which Crane’s work balances with a wide-eyed realism. Definitely the best work of fiction I’ve read concerning the Civil War.

The Loa of the Divine Narcissus By Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz

This short, and increasingly famous allegorical play is worth reading as a document of the attempts to intertwine the indigenous and Spanish cultures of Mexico. Like Montaigne’s famous essay “On Cannibals” there is a level of rare and worthwhile moral / spiritual relativism.

Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad

I gave up caring about Jim around 200 pages in, and found the conclusion to be of little help. Only if you are over the moon for Heart of Darkness would I recommend. It is not as good.

Rhinoceros and Other Plays by Eugene Ionesco

Rhinoceros is an excellent work, one of the best 20th century plays I’ve read. The other two works (The Leader and The Future is in Eggs)…are not. In fact, they’re fairly dreadful.

Graphic Novels

The Sandman: Endless Nights by Neil Gaiman et al.

I enjoyed Sandman a great deal, but never enough to further seek out its spin-offs. So when this volume was given as a gift I perused it, enjoyed it, and shelved it. If you like Sandman this is up your alley.

Sabrina by Nick Drnaso

The emotional void which meets the characters in light of the most vivid horror is why Drnaso’s work is so heralded, and even shortlisted (a graphic novel first) for the Booker. Is it… reasonable? expected? A success? if the book leaves you in a void as well? I don’t really know, but I was nevertheless left feeling that folks could probably get something out of reading this work.

Locke and Key by Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez

What begins as compelling horror turns into a generational mystery, and a relatively straightforward one. Still, with good art and characters, and a solid, if increasingly tired out-of-sync narrative style, this was one of the better graphic novels I’ve read in a good long time.

Top 5 of 2018

The Fifth Risk by Michael Lewis
These Truths by Jill Lepore
The Family of Pascual Duarte by Camilo Jose Cela
Appointment in Samara by John O’Hara
Locke and Key by Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez

Unlike last year, where I had too many 5-star books, I read no 5-star works this year, but these are all very good, 4-star works.

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Film Registry Animated Shorts

So here in the United States we have a National Film Registry. Every year they add more things, and they just announced their newest inductees. They have, over the years, not added that many animated short subjects, though. Here they are, with their Wikipedia links for more info:

A Computer Animated Hand 1972
Duck Amuck 1953
Duck and Cover 1951

I've seen nearly all of these, and in general like to think I know a little something about animation in the U.S. (The only one I've not seen: John Henry and the Inky-Poo. But I am familiar with George Pal's "puppetoons".)

That said, here are a dozen I think should be added:


1. The Cat Concerto, 1947

It's odd that there's no Hanna Barbera anywhere on the list, but a good place to start would be with their iconic Tom and Jerry cartoons, and The Cat Concerto is probably the best of these. It also won the Academy Award.


2. Minnie the Moocher, 1932

Currently there is only one Betty Boop cartoon on the list - the excellent 1933 version of Snow White. Minnie the Moocher is another pairing with Cab Calloway, and an excellent surrealist cartoon with themes of death and weirdness. Bimbo's Initiation would be another good choice.


3. Red Hot Riding Hood, 1943

I like Chuck Jones as much as the next person, but he has Duck Amuck, One Froggy Evening, and What's Opera, Doc? all on there. Poor Tex Avery only has one, and not as well-known: Magical Maestro. He should get another, better-known, work, and Red Hot is an undisputed classic.


4. Der Fuehrer's Face, 1943

Another odd omission - no WWII wartime cartoons. This Disney piece, featuring Donald Duck as a Nazi, describes how bad life would be under fascism. It shows off surrealist aspects similar to Dumbo's Pink Elephants sequence. Another Academy Award winner.


5. Superman, 1941

For many this was the visual introduction of the character, and it helped establish certain norms of the superhero (for example, changing in a phone booth). It is the first of a series of shorts, all of which could be added, it they like. Also just a beautiful, stylized animated cartoon.


6. Felix in Hollywood, 1923

Like Tom and Jerry, Felix the Cat is an icon, and should be included in the Registry. This work began a trope in animated films of caricaturing Hollywood actors that became especially popular for Looney Tunes, but also Disney.


7. Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs, 1943

Censorship and an ugly past combine in this work: a racist depiction of African-American soldiers made during the War, which was attempting to create a positive message... I think the Registry should preserve our entire culture, not just the moments we find inspiring, but also include our more troubled past, of which this is a part.


8. Closed Mondays, 1974

The late, great Will Vinton won an Academy Award for this ground-breaking Claymation piece done with Bob Gardiner. In the years that would follow stop-motion clay animated shorts would become increasingly mainstream due to the early success of this and other Vinton works.


9. Peace on Earth, 1939

An MGM production that, on the eve of WWII, told a moralistic, but somewhat disturbing, tale of the folly of Man - referencing to the horrors of the First World War. Also showcases Harman, of Harman and Ising, as a director of animated shorts.


10. Hell-Bent for Election,  1944

UPA has a good representation on the list above, with both Gerald McBoing-Boing and The Telltale Heart. This little-known short, though, was the great granddaddy to UPA - and began the stylistic pattern for their unique visuals. The short is a propaganda cartoon for UAW works to vote for Roosevelt in '44. In general more UPA: A Unicorn in the Garden would be good, too.


11. Bambi Meets Godzilla, 1969


12. Rejected, 2000

The criteria for inclusion in the Registry is only 10 years, so Don Hertzfeldt's now-iconic, disturbing, animated work of meta-themes, anti-humor and anti-consumerism is more than eligible for being added to a list of the best films ever made. My personal favorite of his, Everything Will Be OK, from 2006, is also old enough - but we'll need to wait a few more years for 2015's World of Tomorrow.

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Textbook Culture

I can't seem to shake the notion, from my last post, of those little infographic boxes that were (still are?) so popular in American History textbooks. To deal with this mild obsession I went ahead and made the sorts of boxes I have been imagining. Each has a musician, a book, a movie star, a film, and an athlete:

1920s

1930s

1940s

1950s

1960s

1970s

1980s

1990s

2000s

2010s

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

American Decades

So I was thinking about the last century, and what would be the textbook-required issues for each decade, in American History:

2010s

Trump
Social Media Culture and Violence
Paris Accords
Occupy and Arab Spring
Opioid Crisis and Healthcare

2000s

9/11
Great Recession
Smartphones
Obama
Afghanistan and Iraq

1990s

End of Cold War
Internet and Digitization
Globalism and Peace Movements
Partisan Politics
NAFTA and Automation

1980s

Home computers
Reagan
VHS and Cable
Decline of Unions
AIDS Epidemic

1970s

Watergate
Feminist Movement
Earth Day and Environmental Movement
Opening Asian Trade
Decline of the Cities

1960s

Vietnam and Hippies
Civil Rights
Moon Landing and Space Race
Kennedy/Assassinations
Great Society

1950s

Suburbia and Car Culture
Television and Advertising
Desegregation Begins
Red Scare
Korea

1940s

U.S. Entry into WWII and Internment
Atomic Technology
Post-War Global Order (U.N., Brenton Woods, GI Bill etc)
Computers
Plastics

1930s

Great Depression
FDR and New Deal
Dust Bowl
Resurgent Klan
Hollywood

1920s

Suffrage
Tenements and Immigration
Moving Pictures
Jazz on the Radio
Prohibition


They also tend to have, in most American History textbooks, a section on the water-cooler, second-tier items, so here are five more pieces for each decade as well, of stuff not covered in the main, above:

10s

LGBT Rights
#MeToo
Self-Driving Car
Streaming Services
Citizens United v. FEC

00s

Bush v. Gore
Human Genome Project
NSA
YouTube and Memes
MCU

90s

Gulf War
Americans with Disabilities Act
Coffee Shop Culture
Dream Team
The Simpsons

80s

Challenger Disaster
Hip hop
Spielberg  Movies
Video Games
WalMart's National Expansion

70s

Disco
Oil Crisis
Hijackings
Wounded Knee and AIM
Bruce Lee

60s

Bob Dylan
UFW and Cesar Chavez
To Kill a Mockingbird
British Invasion and Psychedelica
First Superbowl

50s

Military Industrial Complex
Modern Vaccinations
Jet Age Travel
Beat Generation
Rock n Roll

40s

J. Edgar Hoover at the FBI and the CIA
National Laboratories
Woody Guthrie and the Almanac Singers
Merrill Lynch: Insurance and Shareholders
Oklahoma!

30s

Blues
Superman
Skyscrapers
Jesse Owens and Joe Louis
Alcoholics Anonymous

20s

Capone and the St. Valentine's Day Massacre
Edwin Hubble and Robert Goddard
The Great Gatsby
Newspaper Comics
Scopes Trial

Sunday, November 25, 2018

So Cal Redux

When I was a kid I went to San Diego a few times with my dad and sister. We have a picture of us on a fiberglass Shamu, pretending to hold on as the orca breaches in front of the backdrop.

Besides SeaWorld, the San Diego Zoo and Wild Animal Park were favorites, as well, visited multiple times. Then, once, in high school or late middle school, we went down there with my mom. That trip focused on the actual historic downtown a bit more. But we still went to the Wild Animal Park (now called the Safari Park) and ate our way through the exhibits. ("Look! A giraffe!" "Look! Nachos!")

Two summers ago in 2016 my sister and I went back to San Diego, since we'd not been in at least sixteen years or so. We went to the Zoo and Safari Park together (we certainly wouldn't support SeaWorld anymore), and I went to the Balboa Park Museums, which I only vaguely remembered from the visit with mom.

So when my dad turned 75 this year, and wanted to return to San Diego, we made plans. Having been recently as an adult it was all gravy to me. We decided to go to the Safari Park (we got to feed a giraffe and a greater one horned rhino as in 2016) and the Balboa Park museums (the Fleet Science Center was lousy, but the Natural History Museum across the way was neat), as well as the Cabrillo National Monument - one of the most visited in the United States, and a locale I'd not ever been to, but which my dad had when he was stationed there for the Navy.

San Diego was nice in November. We ate at good restaurants, and the not-too-distant memories from a couple of years prior were strengthened and more firmly set.

From there we went on to Los Angeles, to see the Getty. I'd not been to this museum since 2010, and my father hadn't seen it since its opening. It was a full and very pleasant day. The collection was as or more excellent than I had remembered, and I was introduced to some interesting new artists.

Similarly, last weekend, I went with my girlfriend to Hearst Castle, in San Simeon. It was my fourth trip to the estate, having gone twice as a kid, but much had changed since my most-recent visit, that same summer of 2010. That was the summer I first explored Los Angeles, and then took a trip up Highway 1. It was a romantic trip - of a relationship that was hollowing out from within. We had seen the Getty, went up to Hearst Castle, and saw the Monterey Bay Aquarium. There, too, that trip stuck out - for until I moved down here last year, that drive up the coast, seven years prior, had, like Hearst Castle, been the first time I'd been to Monterey since I was a young child. My adult views of these places were linked to that lost relationship.

All three stops of that trip have now been recreated - the initial touring around a Los Angeles I did not then know (which began a generally annual tradition of visits since), the stop at Hearst Castle and seeing the Aquarium. And of course, the final destination of that road trip, of Berkeley, Marin, and San Francisco - the part of the story I revisited and rewrote first, easiest, and most thoroughly, upon returning to California in 2014.

Combined with San Diego, the last two weeks have been significant for memory and nostalgia. Rewriting a city's past from childhood. Creating fresher, bolder memories with my new girlfriend of a place I last went with my ex-girlfriend. At Hearst Castle we even went and saw elephant seals - creatures I've not bothered about since I was very young, and would see in the Bay Area at Ano Nuevo. Monterey is my new home, and likely will be for some time - no longer a stop on Highway 1, or a drive down to the Aquarium with my mom, looking at the eucalyptus trees on Route 156.

Nor is the Getty a place I went once when I was 24, with my girlfriend and the guy she would, in just over a year, be dating instead of me. While those memories will always remain, this trip brought new ones, invigorating the sounds and sights of the place with my sister and my father, now 75, and sunset glows which, if I witnessed them then, I did not bother to record, being more interested in the pedantic self-important conversations of young adulthood, debating the distinctions between "art" and "craft" and other such things that matter. I was genuinely happy, then, but the inevitable crumble of that romance subsequently tinted those places for me with sepia tones of regret and loss.

I'm glad for the change of all of this. It is pleasant to know that I can balance out that time of my life with happier and richer memories of my recent-present. As Didion once said, "I think we are well-advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not." So I give a nod to my former 24-year-old self, and move on through the galleries suffused with the warm orange hues of now.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Review: "These Truths: A History of the United States" by Jill Lepore

Every so often a one-volume U.S. history book comes along that's important. "In 1834, when the nation was barely more than a half-century old" George Bancroft wrote History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent to the Present. It begins a continual process of seriously telling, and retelling, America's history. Bancroft's pioneering work has such important stories in it as that of John Stark, trapper:

"danger lowered from the forest on the whole American frontier. In the early summer of 1752, John Stark, of New Hampshire, as fearless a young forester as ever bivouacked in the wilderness, was trapping beaver along the clear brooks of his native highlands, when a party of St. Francis Indians stole upon his steps, and scalped one of his companions. He himself, by courage and good humor, won the love of his captors; their tribe saluted him as a young chief, and cherished him with hearty kindness; his Indian master, accepting a ransom, restored him to his country."

The "St. Francis Indians", by the way, were the Abenaki.

Stark, later a British officer in the Seven Years War, is not a particularly important American hero, his story not actually all that memorable. As the country grew in size and age, such anecdotes had to be left out - there simply was not room enough for them. But this is what historians do - they select what is worthy of inclusion, and what is not.

Jill Lepore, professor of History at Harvard, has created an ambitious one volume history, which, I think, is important. It is an account for our times, post-2016, and tries to learn from the mistakes of so many one-volume accounts that came before. Early US histories have the same three basic problems:

1) Under-representing women
2) Under-representing African Americans
3) Under-representing indigenous peoples

Racism often mired accounts of the latter two, and patriarchal blindness the former. So in 1980, when Howard Zinn published his watershed A People's History of the United States, and James Loewen followed in 1995 with the now-classic Lies My Teacher Told Me, academia corrected a 150 year-old problem, passed down from Bancroft.

America's history is not just the history of white males in power, winning wars, and making laws. And, as marvelous as Frederick Douglass was, or Elizabeth Cady Stanton, or Geronimo, tokenism was not the way to present the true history of the United States. By the mid-1990s textbooks across the country reflected the actual diversity of the nation, and did not whitewash or gloss over slavery, genocide, internment, and our fuller, more complex, legacy. Compare that choice to a section from an old US History textbook I own, Scudder's History of the United States, published in 1884 (just after Garfield's assassination):

"For the most part the slaves were an idle, easy-going people. They were affectionate and warmly attached to their masters and mistresses if these were kind to them. They had little thoughts of anything beyond eating and sleeping and playing. They had their holidays, and when Christmas came they flocked to the great house to receive their presents."

Remember, this was written after Reconstruction. John Brown, in Scudder's work - by no means a minor text in the annals of American textbooks - is dealt with as a curiosity, an odd man given his two paragraphs. Zinn and Loewen clearly had a lot to fix - and did so admirably. But history is not static, and as soon as it goes to press, an historical account is out of date. The recent times have been wanting for a new historical reckoning, one to match our moment.

Lepore's work does this. It expertly traces the threads most pertinent to explaining how we got to where we are today. Its scope is political - do not expect to find Louis Armstrong, Samuel Colt, or John Stark in this book. Her narrative tackles the main questions which have bedeviled the nation since before it was one: How can democracy work most effectively? Who gets to be a citizen - or even a person?, and What role does information, and technology, play in all this?

That said, she has two particularly odd omissions. Lepore works through definitions of citizenship which include Asian immigration, for example, from the Gold Rush to Korematsu. She plots the parallel course of one of George Washington's runaway slaves, Harry Washington, on his escape to Canada, and eventual course to Africa. The women's rights movement, with all of its pre-Progressive false starts and failures, is carefully traced, including, again in parallel, Benjamin Franklin's sister, Jane.

But indigenous peoples, who have an obvious connection to questions of identity and citizenship, are left out. Slaves, women, and other typically forgotten groups (pre-Zinn) get plenty of pages. John Brown's place has moved, in These Truths, from Scudder's curiosity, to multiple pages of in-depth analysis. And judiciously placed minor characters are given a chance to speak, as well, from 18th century free-speech advocate John Peter Zenger, to Hawaiian Representative Patsy Mink.

But nowhere does Tecumseh get a mention. Nor Sitting Bull. Geronimo is referenced in a passing sentence regarding the Dawes Act - which set up the assimilation and reservation system. Indeed, even the Trail of Tears, which Lepore spends one page on, quotes instead General Winifield Scott, but gives no voice to the leaders of the Cherokee, beyond an anonymous printed statement of their case. John Ross and John Ridge, major players in that tragic event, don't get to speak for themselves, or debate their role in America, as Lepore allows women, slaves, and others to do. The most important act after creating reservations was Coolidge's Indian Citizenship Act, in 1924, which made Native Americans citizens, instead of the old Constitutional distinction of "Indians, not taxed". It is nowhere mentioned.

This is the first odd omission, then, and the most egregious, in light of her stated aims. To write a work about citizenship and jump from Powhatan and Metacom, across centuries to the Trail of Tears, and then to Dawes, and finally one sentence on the American Indian Movement, jumping in a bound from Geronimo to the 1970s, is, at best, an inexcusable oversight, and at worst a conscious decision to exclude native peoples in the reckoning of America.

Second, the word "gerrymander" makes no appearance in her work. The choice, in 1911, called the Apportionment Act, which set the number of Congressmen at 435, when the country was 1/3 the size it is today, is also never mentioned - despite leading to an increasingly disproportionate House of Representatives. The direct election of Senators is mentioned in passing in one sentence: along with the presidential primary, the Federal Reserve, and Prohibition. This is peculiar, since, as the work goes on, the focus of the third and fourth sections, covering Reconstruction until present, serve as a long crescendo of increased polarization.

George Gallup and Campaigns Inc., Phyllis Schlafly and Thurgood Marshall, Joseph Pulitzer and Roger Ailes: they all get their time in the sun exposing how we became so polarized, and dysfunctional. How "the people" turned into manipulable "masses". But there are other, very significant issues beyond Lepore's main concerns of polling, political campaign machinery, social media, and the trend of aligning parties to ideologies (guns and abortion in particular). Voter repression, in Lepore's world, has no place or role after the Voting Rights Act. Trayvon Martin gets the ink he deserves - but I question if he deserves more page space than the Citizens United decision, which is allowed just half of a half-page paragraph.

These are two significant omissions: first, the rights, citizenship, and personhood of indigenous peoples, and second, the more systemic attempts by conservatives in the Republican Party to suppress voters through gerrymandering, voter ID laws, Super PACs, and the like. (Lepore addresses court-packing, but that is only one part of the story.) The omissions come together in a particularly timely, and poignant way:

On October 9th, the Supreme Court declined intervening (ruling 6-2, with Kagan and Ginsburg dissenting) in a case called Brakebill v. Jaeger, thereby stating that many, if not most, Native Americans can't vote in North Dakota. The reason is a voter ID law, which requires a street address. Unfortunately, for the tens of thousands of indigenous people who live on reservations, they have PO boxes - not street addresses.

This is not an academic concern, since the Senator of the state up for reelection, Heidi Heitkamp, is a Democrat in a state where her only hope for keeping her seat is with Native American turnout. And the Senate currently is 49 Democrats to 51 Republicans. Yes - a conservative court is a part of this, but this is a perfect example of why the threads of the story Lepore left out were actually quite important.

Beyond these omissions, though, the work is fascinating, and worth a read. At just about 800 pages, the last section, from 1945 to present, covers 270 of those pages. The first section, from the three centuries of 1492 to 1799, covers a mere 150. Acceleration is in the background and foreground of the work, as technology and population become more relentless drivers of both change in the electorate, and change in our politics. These Truths feels like a real sprint at the end, but the dizzying pace can be said to honestly reflect a dizzying time.

Finally, from the New York Times book review, I quote Andrew Sullivan at length, lamenting Lepore's New Yorker magazine style, and sometimes painful writing:

"There are moments, however, when you wince at the purple prose. “The Republic was spreading like ferns on the floor of a forest.” Dred Scott was “suffering from tuberculosis, a slow sickness, a constitutional weakening, as relentless as the disease that wracked the nation itself. Frederick Douglass watched, and looked for a cure, an end to suffering. … But it was as if the nation, like Oedipus of Thebes, had seen that in its origins lay a curse, and had gouged out its own eyes.” Oof. The last two paragraphs of the book amount to one of the most excruciating extended metaphors — yes, the ship of state! — I have ever had the misfortune to struggle through."

I also winced at the Epilogue's 'ship of state' because it's so godawful, however, like Sullivan, I concur that overall the pros outweigh the cons:

"But these are quibbles. We need this book. Its reach is long, its narrative fresh and the arc of its account sobering to say the least. This is not Whig history. It is a classic tale of a unique country’s astonishing rise and just-as-inevitable fall."

Indeed, the ending is very dark. Referring to 2016, the book closes with these lines (spoliers!):

"The election had nearly rent the nation in two. It had stoked fears, incited hatreds, and sown doubts about American leadership in the world, and the future of democracy itself. But remorse would wait for another day. And so would a remedy."

Recommendation: Go read this book.

Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Rock Class of 19

It's a good time of year. QI is back on, for it's 16th season. The Nobel Prizes were last week. Midterms are coming up in a month, with a chance to change the country through a nonviolent revolution we take for granted every two years called 'elections'.

And, of course, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has announced its potential 2019 inductees:

Def Leppard
Devo
Janet Jackson
John Prine
Kraftwerk
LL Cool J
MC5
Radiohead
Rage Against the Machine
Roxy Music
Stevie Nicks
The Cure
Todd Rundgren
Rufus & Chaka Khan
The Zombies

So. First off, great list. Five acts are added annually. Here are my rankings, some of which I've rooted for for a decade now.

Best Options:

Janet Jackson
Kraftwerk
Radiohead
Roxy Music
The Zombies

Image result for roxy music gif
Have you ever seen someone more deserving?

The other great choices:

Def Leppard - I admittedly am not a fan, but I totally support their inclusion.
LL Cool J - I mean, with the other 80s hiphop acts in there, it's hard to say he should be left out.
Rage Against the Machine - Like Def Leppard, this is a genre the RRHoF needs to improve on.
Stevie Nicks - More women in the Hall would be good, yes. Especially a double inductee.
Todd Rundgren - Underappreciated, perhaps, for a very skilled musician.

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Knock you out?

Good picks:

Devo - Why not? I'm not sure how innovative they were (and not silly), but I can get behind them.
John Prine - Not a fan, but I acknowledge he should probably be in there.
The Cure - I would not be disappointed at all if they make it.

Image result for the cure gif
...Sure.

Bleh:

MC5 - I just don't like these guys, but clearly someone at the Hall wants them in, and keeps putting them up year after year. But even they'd still be better than other perennial nominee...
Rufus & Chaka Khan - The. Worst.

Image result for rufus chaka khan gif
"Stop trying to make 'fetch' these two crappy bands happen."


If any of these bands deserve entry, in your opinion, go over to their website and vote. You can vote once a day between now and the close of the nomination period. Currently, near the end of day one, Stevie Nicks leads, followed by Def Leppard, The Cure, The Zombies (yay!), and Radiohead. Each group has a full bio and, new this year (?) curated playlists to listen to.

Monday, October 1, 2018

Essential Rock Singles

It's Nobel Prize week! But since they are being garbage (no Lit prize until 2019...) I am going to turn my focus elsewhere. 

In 2018 a new category of ‘singles’ was included in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Some of the songs that changed rock, after all, were released by effective one-hit wonders, and this category recognizes those artists for their important songs.

The initial inductees were all solid, essentially indisputable:

·         Link Wray - "Rumble"
·         The Kingsmen - "Louie Louie"
·         Chubby Checker - "The Twist"
·         Jackie Brenston and His Delta Cats - "Rocket 88"
·         Steppenwolf - "Born to Be Wild"
·         Procol Harum - "A Whiter Shade of Pale"

The only one I think is odd is Steppenwolf. Sure, “Magic Carpet Ride” isn’t as famous, of course, but I could see them being inducted as Performers – unlike the Kingsmen, Chubby Checker, or Procol Harum who really are known for a single track.

For the class of 2019 I have the following suggestions to choose from:

·         Don McLean – “American Pie”
·         Thin Lizzy – “The Boys Are Back in Town”
·         Kansas – “Carry on My Wayward Son”
·         Blue Oyster Cult – “Don’t Fear the Reaper”
·         Mitch Ryder & The Detroit Wheels – “Devil with a Blue Dress On”
·         The Blossoms (initial credit to The Crystals) – “He’s a Rebel”
·         The Bobby Fuller Four – “I Fought the Law”
·         Gloria Gaynor – “I Will Survive”
·         Strawberry Alarm Clock – “Incense and Peppermints”
·         The Five Satins – “In the Still of the Nite”
·         Little Eva – “The Loco-Motion”
·         Boston – “More Than a Feeling”
·         The Chantays – “Pipeline”
·         Afrika Bambaataa – “Planet Rock”
·         Gil Scott Heron – “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”
·         Norman Greenbaum – “Spirit in the Sky”
·         Ben E. King – “Stand By Me”
·         Rick James – “Super Freak”
·         Edwin Starr – “War”
·         Village People – “Y.M.C.A.”

Now there are others, but I am hopeful they will be added as performers (I mean, the Hall of Fame says it’s possible to get inducted first as a single and later as a performer…but it just seems unlikely). Could you add Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” to the list? Of course. Same goes for someone like Dick Dale with “Misirlou”, The Modern Lovers with “Road Runner”, and Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain”. But all, in my opinion, would be worthy Performer inductees.

Anyway, I’ll be excited to see which ones, if any of my 20 suggestions, make it.