"Rabbi Elazar ben (son of) Shamua said, the honor of your student should be as dear to you as your own; the honor of your colleague should be as the fear of your [Torah] teacher; and the fear of your teacher should be as the fear of Heaven." -- Pirkei Avot Chapter 4, Mishna 15(a)
"No lesson seems to be so deeply inculcated by the experience of life as that you should never trust experts. If you believe the doctors, nothing is wholesome; if you believe the theologians, nothing is innocent; if you believe the soldiers, nothing is safe. They all require to have their strong wine diluted by a very large admixture of insipid common sense." -- Lord Salisbury, 15 June 1877
"An expert is one who knows more and more about less and less." -- Nicholas Murray Butler, Columbia U. commencement, attributed. [concludes in some versions "until he knows nearly everything about almost nothing."]
"I have striven not to laugh at human actions, not to weep at them, nor hate them, but to understand them." -- Baruch Spinoza, Tractatus Politicus (1677)
"Silence is the most perfect expression of scorn." -- George Bernard Shaw, Back to Methuselah (1921)
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Quotations #084
"Speech is civilization itself ... It is silence that isolates." -- Thomas Mann
Mao Tse-tung (1893-1976) (or not, it's hard to tell. HT to Scott McLemee), on the meaning of the French Revolution: "It's too early to tell."
"Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want? What do you live for?" -- J. Michael Straczynski
"Of all our studies, history is the best qualified to reward our research." -- Malcolm X (Al Jajj Malik Shabazz, 1925-1965)
"History is the discovering of constant and universal principles of human nature." -- David Hume (1711-1776)
Mao Tse-tung (1893-1976) (or not, it's hard to tell. HT to Scott McLemee), on the meaning of the French Revolution: "It's too early to tell."
"Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want? What do you live for?" -- J. Michael Straczynski
"Of all our studies, history is the best qualified to reward our research." -- Malcolm X (Al Jajj Malik Shabazz, 1925-1965)
"History is the discovering of constant and universal principles of human nature." -- David Hume (1711-1776)
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Thursday Lyric: Montreal, December '89
True stories make the most powerful songs. Obviously, this one was brought to mind by recent events.
[Sorry, but the lack of punctuation marks drives me nuts. I'm gonna put them in.]
Montreal, December '89
by Judy Small
It was a cold December afternoon, the line stretched round the block,
And some of them were weeping and some were still in shock.
Seven thousand came that day to pay their last respects
To fourteen women slaughtered for no reason but their sex.
And the cameras and the mikes were there to record the grief and fear
Of the ordinary people who worked and studied here,
And a woman in her fifties in a gentle quiet tone
Summed up her sisters' outrage at the murder of their own.
She said, "I wonder why, as I try to make sense of this,
Why is it always men who resort to the gun, the sword and the fist?
Why does 'gunman' sound so familiar while 'gunwoman' doesn't quite ring true?
What is it about men that makes them do the things they do?"
And the man behind her in the line, he started getting steamed.
He said, "It wasn't because he was a man, this guy was crazy, mad, obscene."
"Yes he was crazy," the woman replied, "But women go crazy too.
And I've never heard of a woman shooting fourteen men, have you?"
And all those other times came flooding back to me again:
A hundred news reports of men killing family, strangers, friends.
And yes I can remember one or two where a woman's hand held the gun,
But exceptions only prove the rule and the questions still remain.
And don't you wonder why, as you try to make sense of this,
Why is it always men who resort to the gun, the sword and the fist?
Why does "gunman" sound so familiar while "gunwoman" doesn't quite ring true?
What is it about men that makes them do the things they do?
And I know there are men of conscience who aren't like that at all,
Who would never raise a hand in anger and who reject the macho role.
And if you were to ask them about the violence that men do,
I know they'd say they hate male violence too,
And so we wonder why, as we try to make sense of this,
Why is it always men who resort to the gun, the sword and the fist?
Why does "gunman" sound so familiar while "gunwoman" doesn't quite ring true?
What is it about men that makes them do the things they do?
[Sorry, but the lack of punctuation marks drives me nuts. I'm gonna put them in.]
Montreal, December '89
by Judy Small
It was a cold December afternoon, the line stretched round the block,
And some of them were weeping and some were still in shock.
Seven thousand came that day to pay their last respects
To fourteen women slaughtered for no reason but their sex.
And the cameras and the mikes were there to record the grief and fear
Of the ordinary people who worked and studied here,
And a woman in her fifties in a gentle quiet tone
Summed up her sisters' outrage at the murder of their own.
She said, "I wonder why, as I try to make sense of this,
Why is it always men who resort to the gun, the sword and the fist?
Why does 'gunman' sound so familiar while 'gunwoman' doesn't quite ring true?
What is it about men that makes them do the things they do?"
And the man behind her in the line, he started getting steamed.
He said, "It wasn't because he was a man, this guy was crazy, mad, obscene."
"Yes he was crazy," the woman replied, "But women go crazy too.
And I've never heard of a woman shooting fourteen men, have you?"
And all those other times came flooding back to me again:
A hundred news reports of men killing family, strangers, friends.
And yes I can remember one or two where a woman's hand held the gun,
But exceptions only prove the rule and the questions still remain.
And don't you wonder why, as you try to make sense of this,
Why is it always men who resort to the gun, the sword and the fist?
Why does "gunman" sound so familiar while "gunwoman" doesn't quite ring true?
What is it about men that makes them do the things they do?
And I know there are men of conscience who aren't like that at all,
Who would never raise a hand in anger and who reject the macho role.
And if you were to ask them about the violence that men do,
I know they'd say they hate male violence too,
And so we wonder why, as we try to make sense of this,
Why is it always men who resort to the gun, the sword and the fist?
Why does "gunman" sound so familiar while "gunwoman" doesn't quite ring true?
What is it about men that makes them do the things they do?
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Image: Bumblebee
Another in my continuing series in which I get really lucky with inadequate equipment and preparation, and actually take an interesting insect picture.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Thursday Verses: In Broken Images
(Yes, it's only Wednesday when I post this, but it'll be up all through Thursday and beyond)
Perhaps it dulls the effect of the poem to admit this up front, but this is the loveliest descriptions of skeptical epistemology I've ever seen.
In Broken Images
Robert Graves (via)
He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.
He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.
Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.
Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;
Questioning their relevance, I question the fact.
When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
When the fact fails me, I approve my senses.
He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.
He in a new confusion of his understanding;
I in a new understanding of my confusion.
Perhaps it dulls the effect of the poem to admit this up front, but this is the loveliest descriptions of skeptical epistemology I've ever seen.
In Broken Images
Robert Graves (via)
He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.
He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.
Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.
Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;
Questioning their relevance, I question the fact.
When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
When the fact fails me, I approve my senses.
He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.
He in a new confusion of his understanding;
I in a new understanding of my confusion.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Aphabetical Meme
via:
- Accent: hardly any.
- Booze: Irish Coffee; dark beer
- Chore I Hate: refrigerator cleaning.
- Dog or Cat: neither. If I had to pick one, it'd be the smart one, the one I'm not allergic to.
- Essential Electronics: digital camera
- Favorite Cologne(s): flowers
- Gold or Silver: silver, mostly.
- Hometown: my parents still live there, but it's changed so much....
- Insomnia: Not once I lay down.
- Job Title: probationary phronetic pontificator
- Kids: One Little Anachronism
- Living arrangements: single-family dwelling
- Most admirable trait: intelligence?
- Number of sexual partners: low single digits
- Overnight hospital stays: no
- Phobias: not really.
- Quote: "In a word, in history, as elsewhere, the causes cannot be assumed. They are to be looked for. . ." -- Marc Bloch, The Historian's Craft, p. 197.
- Religion: Liberal Judaism
- Siblings: Smarter than me.
- Time I wake up: 6-ish
- Unusual talent or skill: modular origami
- Vegetable I refuse to eat: brussel sprouts are pretty much the only vegetable I've managed to avoid eating ever. Not sure why, to be honest.
- Worst habit: blogging instead of working
- X-rays: not in a long time.
- Yummy foods I make: chocolate fondue. Also chicken soup.
- Zodiac sign: western: Sagittarius; Chinese: sheep.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Blogging is like playing chess against yourself. And everyone else. At the same time.
I haven't done a quiz in a little while. I haven't played chess in even longer....
| A Black Knight You scored 3 Power-Finesse, 2 Leader-Follower, 3 Unique-Ordinary, and 0 Offense-Defense! |
| The rules don't really apply to you, do they? Impediments for you are opportunities, not obstacles. You are dashing and flamboyant, and you like to be right in the middle of the action. You like to protect your team and your King and Queen, by fighting off those who would dare to threaten them. In the long run, however, you cannot win the game alone. It is impossible for you to checkmate your opponent all by yourself, so you appreciate and value your teammates. |
 |
| Link: The What Chess Piece Are You Test written by Gundark27 on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test [via] |
Monday, September 11, 2006
Modern Amphibians
Frogs in Concrete Contexts |
 |
Disclaimer: These pictures have nothing whatsoever to do with 9/11/01, terrorism, politics, memory or policy.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Thursday Lyric: Stormfront
This is a particularly powerful piece. It's more of a spoken-word verse than a song as such, but the powerful music doesn't hurt. I got the text here, but I heartily recommend the album Sparrow's Wing.
Stormfront
Garnet Rogers
As silent as the voice of God
these empty barren hills
they hover above the dry plain
they shimmer in the distance
I feel a sudden chill
The ground is dry and cracked
like an old mans skin stretched across the plain
Lightning flickering across the thunderhead
Empty promises of rain
Some kind of stormfront on the move tonight
Feel the tension in the air
Dust devils dance on the side of the highway
Leaves and garbage everywhere
Mothers call their kids from the door
"C'mon get inside, shut the windows, lock them tight"
The sun has burned its bridges
plunged into the mountains in a sea of steam
and poison light
like a theme park built for swine
We bulldoze farms, fields turn them into strip malls
Nobody seems to mind
Who elected these cheap hustlers anyway?
This worthless pack of pimps and whores
The developers come smiling with their pockets jingling full of change
We get down on all fours
And I don't want your Black Hills gold
Not at any price
we built a trail of tears and broken trees through here
then swarmed the earth like lice
Townhouses, casinos and trailer parks
Cheap neon light up the falling night
I saw the Four Horsemen ride through here about an hour ago
They were sickened at the sight
These highway signs are full of bullet holes
Burnt rubber cross the road
Someone's angry about something somewhere here
They're just waiting to unload
We're putting bombs in buildings
Bombs in letters, bombs in trucks
We're drowning kids in the backs of cars
We're dressing killers in Armani suits
We turn them into TV stars
We become a race of leering voyeurs
We're big on Progress Sex and Death
Something evil is lurking in the darkness here with me
and I can smell its stinking breath
It's in the blankness of our children's stares
It's in a courtroom in a suit
It's in the hand that holds gun that made these bullet holes
It's a secret pocket filled with loot
It's the soft white faces of these soft white men
with their soft white grasping hand
who laugh and sneer at those who have to stand and wait in line
and never got their chance
Stormfront
Garnet Rogers
As silent as the voice of God
these empty barren hills
they hover above the dry plain
they shimmer in the distance
I feel a sudden chill
The ground is dry and cracked
like an old mans skin stretched across the plain
Lightning flickering across the thunderhead
Empty promises of rain
Some kind of stormfront on the move tonight
Feel the tension in the air
Dust devils dance on the side of the highway
Leaves and garbage everywhere
Mothers call their kids from the door
"C'mon get inside, shut the windows, lock them tight"
The sun has burned its bridges
plunged into the mountains in a sea of steam
and poison light
ChorusWe've turned our towns into a filthy joke
I hear thunder bumping boxcars in the valley
the wind is laughing up my sleeve
the cars have turned their headlights on
It's way past time-- I should be gone
like a theme park built for swine
We bulldoze farms, fields turn them into strip malls
Nobody seems to mind
Who elected these cheap hustlers anyway?
This worthless pack of pimps and whores
The developers come smiling with their pockets jingling full of change
We get down on all fours
And I don't want your Black Hills gold
Not at any price
we built a trail of tears and broken trees through here
then swarmed the earth like lice
Townhouses, casinos and trailer parks
Cheap neon light up the falling night
I saw the Four Horsemen ride through here about an hour ago
They were sickened at the sight
These highway signs are full of bullet holes
Burnt rubber cross the road
Someone's angry about something somewhere here
They're just waiting to unload
We're putting bombs in buildings
Bombs in letters, bombs in trucks
We're drowning kids in the backs of cars
We're dressing killers in Armani suits
We turn them into TV stars
We become a race of leering voyeurs
We're big on Progress Sex and Death
Something evil is lurking in the darkness here with me
and I can smell its stinking breath
It's in the blankness of our children's stares
It's in a courtroom in a suit
It's in the hand that holds gun that made these bullet holes
It's a secret pocket filled with loot
It's the soft white faces of these soft white men
with their soft white grasping hand
who laugh and sneer at those who have to stand and wait in line
and never got their chance
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Quotations #083
"In The Cycle of Juvenile Justice, historian Thomas J. Bernard shows how over the past 200 years each generation has believed that juveniles were committing more frequent and more serious crimes than juveniles 30 or 40 years ago." -- Mara Dodge, Z Magazine, 3/2000.
"The ink of the scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr" -- Mohammed
"History is always written wrong, and so always needs to be rewritten." George Santayana
"The First Amendment recognizes that a certain amount of expressive disorder not only is inevitable in a society committed to individual freedom, but must itself be protected if that freedom should survive." Iowa Superior Court Judge Rosemary Sackett.
"Intelligent discontent is the mainspring of civilization" -- Eugene V. Debs
"The ink of the scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr" -- Mohammed
"History is always written wrong, and so always needs to be rewritten." George Santayana
"The First Amendment recognizes that a certain amount of expressive disorder not only is inevitable in a society committed to individual freedom, but must itself be protected if that freedom should survive." Iowa Superior Court Judge Rosemary Sackett.
"Intelligent discontent is the mainspring of civilization" -- Eugene V. Debs
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