tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291160749755383972024-02-20T10:39:19.728-08:00Language ScrapsTorben Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04898308267210987998noreply@blogger.comBlogger376125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-9279383168418607132016-09-22T21:45:00.000-07:002016-09-22T21:45:40.228-07:00The effects of wordsI know I haven't kept up with this blog but I was thinking about the effect words have on listeners and so I thought I would share this short story. At work today I didn't feel like I had done anything extraordinary for a library patron but I was still pleased to hear " Thanks, you have been delightful". I am still thinking about how much it meant for me to hear this patrons gratitude for the ordinary customer service I provided. I thought now how is language the most dangerous of possessions in this instance and then I though that it was the effect that the words I heard today had on me and could have on others as well. I know this isn't very deep or maybe even enlightening to hear but it was just a thought I had about language.Mistyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09971326801267004001noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-69898833146372015482013-01-26T22:37:00.002-08:002013-01-26T23:09:12.908-08:00"In the Land of Invented Languages," "Blissymbolics," and the new Radiolab episode, "Bliss"<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The first story in a recent episode of Radiolab ("Bliss": <a href="http://www.radiolab.org/2012/dec/17/" style="text-align: left;">http://www.radiolab.org/2012/dec/17/</a>) follows a character named Charles Bliss, who is one of many subjects in this book...:</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In the Land of Invented Languages: Adventures in Linguistic Creativity, Madness, and Genius (by Arika Okrent)</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">(Previously titled: In the Land of Invented Languages: Esperanto Rock Stars, Klingon Poets, Loglan Lovers, and the Mad Dreamers Who Tried To Build A Perfect Language)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">...Charles Bliss turns out to be an incredibly interesting character who, after having experienced the Nazi propaganda machine and the concentration camps, decided to create a universal language that he thought would cure the world of all its social ills. He published his ideas and a guide to learning his universal language in this book:</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Semantography (Blissymbolics): A Logical Writing for an Illogical World</span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 20px;">"Bliss believed that war was often caused by the misuse of language, and he believed it could be overcome if we could create a way to communicate the truth without the trickery of words. Having lived through the hell of Nazi concentration camps, he set about creating the perfect language, based on symbols and logic." (Quote taken from the Radiolab website.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is an extremely fascinating story that takes a bit of a sad and ironic turn. I highly recommend listening to it! <a href="http://www.radiolab.org/2012/dec/17/">http://www.radiolab.org/2012/dec/17/</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm just about to order and read the Arika Okrent book...the Charles Bliss book is now a rare out-of-print book -- maybe I'll find a copy of it one day. Anyway, check it out!</span></div>
Grabloidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00145436944422987383noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-40880741088406938362012-11-04T11:21:00.003-08:002012-11-04T11:21:29.259-08:00Organic Chemistry NotesHere are the Organic Chemistry notes that I made:<br />
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<a href="http://www.livescribe.com/cgi-bin/WebObjects/LDApp.woa/wa/MLSOverviewPage?sid=qc5ztfQ6F6c9" target="_blank">Chapter 7 Quiz</a><br />
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Mark Ricehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00061833717324788440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-29527510649255779072012-10-17T10:42:00.000-07:002012-10-17T10:42:53.789-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://ht.ly/eyqTQ">The Evolution Of Symbolic Language</a>. </div>
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Torben Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04898308267210987998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-31628264185156285402012-06-11T16:32:00.002-07:002012-06-11T16:37:15.086-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Reading from Eva Hoffman’s excellent book “Lost in Translation: A Life in a New Language”, I came across this passage and had to share it:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"When my friend Penny tells me that she’s envious, or happy, or disappointed, I try laboriously to translate not from English to Polish but from the word back to its source, to the feeling from which it springs. Already, in that moment of strain, spontaneity of response is lost. And anyway, the translation doesn’t work. I don’t know how Penny feels when she talks about envy. The word hangs in a Platonic stratosphere, a vague prototype of all envy, so large, so all-encompassing that it might crush me - as might disappointment or happiness.</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I am becoming a living avatar of structuralist wisdom; I cannot help knowing that words are just themselves. But it’s a terrible knowledge, without any of the consolations that wisdom usually brings. It does not mean that I’m free to play with words at my wont; anyway, words in their naked state are surely among the least satisfactory play objects. No, this radical disjoining between word and thing is a desiccating alchemy, draining the world not only of significance but of its colors, striations, nuances - its very existence. It is the loss of a living connection.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The worst losses come at night. As I lie down in a strange bed in a strange house - my mother is a sort of housekeeper here, to the aging Jewish man who has taken us in in return for her services - I wait for that spontaneous flow of inner language which used to be my nighttime talk with myself, my way of informing the ego where the id had been. Nothing comes. Polish, in a short time, has atrophied, shriveled from sheer uselessness. Its words don’t apply to my new experiences; they’re not coeval with any of the objects, or faces, or the very air I breathe in the daytime. In English, words have not penetrated to those layers of my psyche from which a private conversation could proceed. This interval before sleep used to be the time when my mind became both receptive and alert, when images and words rose up to consciousness, reiterating what had happened during the day, adding the day’s experiences to those already stored there, spinning out the thread of my personal story.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Now, this picture-and-word show is gone; the thread has been snapped. I have no interior language, and without it, interior images - those images through which we assimilate the external world, through which we take it in, love it, make it our own - become blurred too. My mother and I met a Canadian family who live down the block today. They were working in their garden and engaged us in a conversation of the the “Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?” variety, which culminated in their inviting us into their house. They sat stiffly on their couch, smiled in the long pauses between the conversation, and seemed at a loss for what to ask. Now my mind gropes for some description of them, but nothing fits. They’re a different species from anyone I’ve met in Poland, and Polish words slip off of them without sticking. English words don’t hook on to anything. I try, deliberately, to come up with a few. Are these people pleasant or dull? Kindly or silly? The words float in an uncertain space. They come up from a part of my brain in which labels may be manufactured but which has no connection to my instincts, quick reactions, knowledge. Even the simplest adjectives sow confusion in my mind; English kindliness has a whole system of morality behind it, a system that makes “kindness” an entirely positive virtue. Polish kindness has the tiniest element of irony. Besides, I’m beginning to feel the tug of prohibition, in English, against uncharitable words. In Polish, you can call someone an idiot without particularly harsh feelings and with the zest of a strong judgment. Yes, in Polish these people might tend toward “silly” and “dull” - but I force myself toward “kindly” and “pleasant.” The cultural unconscious is beginning to exercise its subliminal influence.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The verbal blur covers these people’s faces, their gestures with a sort of fog. I can’t translate them into my mind’s eye. The small event, instead of being added to the mosaic of consciousness and memory, falls through some black hole, and I fall with it. What has happened to me in this new world? I don’t know. I don’t see what I’ve seen, don’t comprehend what’s in front of me. I’m not filled with language anymore, and I have only a memory of fullness to anguish me with the knowledge that, in this dark and empty state, I don’t really exist."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>Grabloidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00145436944422987383noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-24484327291225232272012-04-29T17:26:00.000-07:002012-04-29T17:26:13.369-07:00<!--StartFragment-->
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Oh hell yes I was filled with the Holy Ghost</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-47435939988708466102012-04-15T18:13:00.004-07:002012-04-15T18:18:58.228-07:00Where did swearing get its taboo status?Me and my brother were having a debate about swearing, but we both got to the point where aside from it being a social stigma, and a taboo word, we didn't know why (or where) it got its status. Did a group of people get together and outlaw words? Where did these roots of obscenity get their place. I honestly don't know and it sounds like a worthy challenge for the blog. I also had the thought of where did other languages get the taboo words? Each society has a list where did they come from?Bladed Thesishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02097606284114819901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-66119313405257307152012-04-02T22:52:00.002-07:002012-04-02T22:56:19.272-07:00Body Language - Lapham’s Quarterly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY8PrnBKjCDVBp4mdToCITAc9UbEXZV1wx2bMoCOz-l8uGzd1-2bInNNtI6EwidjKBVg6MzKcuiTeXTnvu17OZ7N67m78uKvQn1UKhYB_ZA0R7X430ahQPSpoiU6T0NvThTpvnlBLb_30/s1600/laphams_spring_2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY8PrnBKjCDVBp4mdToCITAc9UbEXZV1wx2bMoCOz-l8uGzd1-2bInNNtI6EwidjKBVg6MzKcuiTeXTnvu17OZ7N67m78uKvQn1UKhYB_ZA0R7X430ahQPSpoiU6T0NvThTpvnlBLb_30/s320/laphams_spring_2012.jpg" width="232" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just read this great article from the new issue of Lapham's Quarterly called "Means of Communication." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is a great magazine, and a particularly great issue. Check it out! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.laphamsquarterly.org/essays/body-language.php#.T3qPG3ni7QE.blogger">Body Language - Lapham’s Quarterly</a></div>Grabloidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00145436944422987383noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-85148207460837603212011-08-13T15:20:00.000-07:002011-08-13T15:20:11.490-07:00God, the Afterlife, and the Scientific Method <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I would like to know whether the traditional religious convictions which hold that “God exists!” and that “there is an afterlife!” are created using the scientific method to interpret subjective data. <span> </span>As I understand the situation of knowledge in relationship to the scientific method, the certainty generated by using the scientific method to reliably predict future events is <i>only</i> reliably possible when using objective data.<span> </span>If that is so, religious convictions which hold that “God exists!” and that “there is an afterlife!” <i>must</i> embrace a greater degree of faith because they seem to be based on using the scientific method with subjective data.<span> </span>But, as a starting point for this journey, is it necessary that the scientific method only be used with objective data for the purpose of reliably predicting future events? Who’s perspective on this matter is trustable and why?<span> </span>Moreover, which method do religious people consciously think they are using to produce convictions that “God exists!” and “there is an afterlife!”? <span> </span>Is there any credible way to see such convictions based on a method other than the scientific method?<span> </span>And again, who’s perspective on this matter is trustable and why?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-64147327813537378462011-08-03T12:46:00.000-07:002011-08-03T12:49:54.873-07:00Lexicon ValleySo, I was listening to NPR's show "On the Media" and this segment came up unexpectedly...it was great!<br /><ul class="story-sidebar"><li class="image"> <div class="mediumimage"> <img src="http://media40.wnyc.net/media/photologue/photos/cache/lexicon%20valley%20-%20M.V.%20Portman%20%28wikimedia%29_medium_image.jpg" id="imghttp___media40_wnyc_net_media_photologue_photos_lexicon_valley___M_V__Portman__wikimedia__jpg" alt="M.V. Portman/wikimedia" /> </div> </li></ul> <div class="article-description"> <p>Back by popular demand, here's another installment of Mike Vuolo's "Lexicon Valley." In February 2010, <a class="external-link" target="_blank" href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8498534.stm">the last living speaker of Boa died</a>, and with her, the logic, culture, and history of the ancient people. Mike and Bob discuss the death of languages and why their passing matters. <a href="http://www.onthemedia.org/2011/jul/29/lexicon-valley-episode-2/">http://www.onthemedia.org/2011/jul/29/lexicon-valley-episode-2/<br /></a></p></div>Grabloidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00145436944422987383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-47177643040745191052011-02-07T17:01:00.000-08:002011-02-07T17:06:47.566-08:00Our 'Love Affair' With Euphemisms - All Things Considered<div class="storytitle" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><h1 style="font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.2em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms">Our 'Love Affair' With Euphemisms</a></h1></div><div class="storylocation" id="storyspan02" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><div class="bucketwrap primary" id="res133571773" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(215, 215, 215); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(215, 215, 215); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(215, 215, 215); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(215, 215, 215); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; height: 56px; margin-bottom: 24px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 10px;"><div class="listenicon" style="float: left; margin-top: 5px; width: 50px;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://media.npr.org/chrome/news/icon_av_main.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: black; display: block; height: 42px; text-decoration: none; width: 42px;"></a></div><div class="avcontent listen" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #e5e5e5; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; float: left; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 15px; padding-right: 15px; padding-top: 10px; width: 415px;"><h3 style="font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Listen to the Story</a></h3><div class="byline" style="color: #666666; float: left; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.45em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: 300px;"><a class="program" href="http://www.npr.org/programs/all-things-considered/" style="color: #666666; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">All Things Considered</a></div><div class="duration" style="color: #666666; float: right;">[6 min 31 sec]</div></div><ul style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px;"><li style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a class="add" href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://media.npr.org/chrome/news/icon_avbox_mini.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: #999999; padding-bottom: 1px; padding-left: 22px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-decoration: none;">Add to Playlist</a></li>
<li style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a class="download" href="http://pd.npr.org/anon.npr-mp3/npr/atc/2011/02/20110207_atc_16.mp3?dl=1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://media.npr.org/chrome/news/icon_avbox_mini.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px -30px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: #999999; padding-bottom: 1px; padding-left: 22px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px; text-decoration: none;">Download</a></li>
</ul><div class="spacer" style="clear: both; font-size: 1px; line-height: 1px;"></div></div></div><div class="storylocation" id="storytext" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; height: 123px; margin-bottom: 18px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"><div class="dateblock" style="margin-bottom: 10px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"><div class="textsize" style="color: #999999; float: right; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 20px;">text size <a class="normal" href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms" style="color: #999999; font-weight: bold; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 2px; padding-right: 2px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">A</a> <a class="big" href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms" style="color: #999999; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 2px; padding-right: 2px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">A</a> <a class="bigger" href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/07/133571685/Our-Love-Affair-With-Euphemisms" style="color: #999999; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 2px; padding-right: 2px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">A</a></div><span class="date" style="color: #999999; font-size: 0.85em; font-style: italic;">February 7, 2011</span></div><div style="font-size: 0.85em; line-height: 1.45em; margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">In <em>Euphemania: Our Love Affair with Euphemisms</em>, author Ralph Keyes explores the power of words and our power over them. Keyes tells host Robert Siegel he's always been interested in the intersection of language and culture, and how the way people talk reflects changes in society. Nothing, he says, does that more than euphemisms.</div><div class="" id="featuredCommentsMain133571685"></div></div><div class="storylocation" id="storyspan03" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><div class="container nobar" id="con133573192" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; margin-bottom: 10px; position: relative;"><h3 class="conheader" style="color: #800149; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Related NPR Stories</h3><div class="bucketwrap internallink" id="res133573194"><div class="simple" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.npr.org/2010/12/14/132056878/-euphemania-our-passion-for-not-saying-it?ps=rs" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://media.npr.org/chrome/news/bullet_blk.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: black; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 7px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">'Pushing Up Daisies' And Our Passion For Euphemisms</a> <span class="date" style="color: #999999; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal;">Dec. 14, 2010</span></div></div></div></div>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17357065591689084544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-57660603153834239632010-12-24T15:24:00.000-08:002010-12-24T15:32:41.553-08:00Science Friday: Jonathon Keats and "Virtual Words"<img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/kazookah/EdfiCvCErrsktsjfurtEiFbCiBFvHasrizoujrtdfEDpkIeIjfBhtdBHinif/media_httpwwwentourag_ftdGp.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="400" height="602" /><div class="posterous_quote_citation">via <a href="http://www.sciencefriday.com/program/archives/201012241">sciencefriday.com</a></div><p>"Do you ever 'tweet?' Does your texting vocabulary include the ultra-brief, but oh-so-useful, 'k?' In this segment, we'll talk with Jonathon Keats, author of the book 'Virtual Words.' Keats, a conceptual artist, also pens Wired's 'Jargon Watch' column. We'll talk about how the rapid pace of technology is creating new words and how new ideas drive new language."</p><p>Guests:<br />Jonathon Keats<br />Author, Wired magazine's "Jargon Watch"<br />Virtual Words (Oxford University Press, 2010)<br />Conceptual Artist<br />San Francisco, California</p><p>download mp3: <a href="http://public.npr.org/anon.npr-mp3/npr/totn/2010/12/20101224_totn_01.mp3">http://public.npr.org/anon.npr-mp3/npr/totn/2010/12/20101224_totn_01.mp3</a></p>Brittanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17357065591689084544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-76191935773033097272010-12-20T09:50:00.001-08:002010-12-20T09:50:46.832-08:00On Language and LivingA scene from Godard's "Vivre Sa Vie."<br /><br /><object height="285" width="380"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YIwM9u-h37c?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YIwM9u-h37c?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="380" height="285"></embed></object>Torben Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04898308267210987998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-37818422025672503392010-12-14T20:12:00.000-08:002010-12-14T20:12:38.635-08:00NY Times: John Cage's Piece 4' 33"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px;"><span class="timestamp published" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; color: #a81817; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-weight: normal !important; white-space: nowrap;" title="2010-12-14T12:06:14+00:00"><span class="date" style="color: grey; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1.1em;">December 14, 2010, <em style="font-style: normal; text-transform: uppercase;">12:06 PM</em></span></span></span><br />
<h1 class="entry-title" style="color: black; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 2.4em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.083em; margin-bottom: 4px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 6px;">Just in Time for the Holidays: Cage Against the Machine</h1><address class="byline author vcard" style="color: grey; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1.1em; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.2em; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-top: 2px;">By <a class="url fn" href="http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/author/ben-sisario/" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase;" title="See all posts by BEN SISARIO">BEN SISARIO</a></address><div class="entry-content" style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px;"><div style="font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The musicians crowded into a London studio, dozens of them, to record a song for charity. Waiting for their cue, they held guitars and drumsticks, and stood at attention by the microphones. Then the producer gave the count: “Quiet in the studio: one, two …”</div><div style="font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And then silence. Exactly 4 minutes and 33 seconds of it.</div><div style="font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The musicians, including British pop stars like Billy Bragg, the electronic act Orbital and the band Enter Shikari, were there to perform <a class="tickerized" href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/c/john_cage/index.html?inline=nyt-per" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;" title="More articles about John Cage.">John Cage</a>’s famous tribute to nothingness, “4’ 33”,” as part of a project cheekily called <a href="http://www.catm.co.uk/" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;">Cage Against the Machine </a>whose goal is to send an unlikely song to the top of the British pop chart at Christmas.</div><div style="font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Last year a <a class="tickerized" href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/business/companies/facebook_inc/index.html?inline=nyt-org" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;" title="More articles about Facebook.">Facebook</a> campaign helped the anarchist American rock band <a class="tickerized" href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/organizations/r/rage_against_the_machine/index.html?inline=nyt-org" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;" title="More articles about Rage Against the Machine.">Rage Against the Machine</a> reach No. 1 with “<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/22/arts/music/22arts-004.html" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;">Killing in the Name</a>,” and now another Web effort is behind Cage Against the Machine. A single is available on iTunes (you can even buy an EP with seven “remixes” of studio chatter and other random sounds), with proceeds going to five British charities.</div><div style="font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">“Music is made up of more than just formal notes and arrangements,” Julie Hilliard, one of the organizers, told the musicians as they prepared for their silent take. “Here today we are doing something special. We are stopping and appreciating the space between things, the unintentional sounds that make up our world.”</div><div style="font-size: 1.4em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A video of the recording sessions can be seen above or <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYedTIMAf7E" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;">here on YouTube</a>.</div></div>Scott Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01782322856303315648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-81678380606973847682010-12-12T20:56:00.000-08:002010-12-12T20:57:21.854-08:00Poetry and Philosophy at the Crossroads<a href="http://www.nhinet.org/ricci20-1.pdf">http://www.nhinet.org/ricci20-1.pdf</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-20004720288530579422010-12-12T16:23:00.001-08:002010-12-12T16:27:09.459-08:00Perfect LanguageI just remembered there was a quote I read that reminded me of our class. I don't remember who said the quote or exactly how it went, I think it was Peter Benchly - author of Jaws. Anyway whoever it was, they were talking about language and they said something to the effect of the following:<div><br /></div><div>I have terrific understanding of language and its power and so I say nothing...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-89072174294042251522010-12-09T20:21:00.001-08:002010-12-09T20:22:21.775-08:00Alex's Dream<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DK2Ms_U3PqY"></a><br />This is something that I made a while ago. It's an interpretation of what he said about his dream.<br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DK2Ms_U3PqYJ.Garciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05981296394651405712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-41056630510386441082010-12-08T23:16:00.000-08:002010-12-08T23:30:00.907-08:00Discovering one's own language: another throughtFrom "The Clouds Should Know Me by Now" (the Buddhist poet monks of China from the past 700 years)<div><br /></div><div>...Maybe we're in a position now to see that this is what's so compelling in 1500 years of Ch'an poetry. The best poems push no doctrine or dogma, there's no jingo, no proselytizing. The Buddhism is carefully hidden away in tight five- and seven-syllable lines. (This metric pattern, according to Yunte Huang, "is intimately related to the translations from the Sanskrit Buddhist texts. It was the encounter with an alphabetical language--Sanskrit--that made the Chines realize for the first time that a Chinese character was pronounced by a combination of vowel and consonant.")</div><div><br /></div><div>This came back to me from having recently read it, after Alex told of finding Sicilian to be a written language--his own language, complete.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ch'i chi (864-937 C.E.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Don't dye it, don't pull it out,</div><div>let it grow all over your head. </div><div>No medicine can stop the whiteness,</div><div>the blackness won't last out the fall.</div><div>Lay your head on a quiet pillow, hear the cicadas,</div><div>idly incline it to watch the waters flow--</div><div>The reason we can't rise to this broader view of life </div><div>is because, white hair, you grieve us so!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So much of the poetry takes me to a deeper tranquil and very awake place. But this one shows the abiding sense of humor that surfaces in many of the poets' work. Wanted to share.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carmellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06739175107326340828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-34401726481460018262010-12-04T19:53:00.000-08:002010-12-04T20:12:08.733-08:00Def Poetry Jam - Alicia Keys - POW<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/U8ZVNKNxnjs?fs=1" width="425" frameborder="0" height="344"></iframe><br /><br />I have been a fan of Def Jam poetry for awhile. I can't help but think of what Alex did on Wednesday and it ties into what Alicia Keys says in this session of Def Jam Poetry. Here is Alex, trying to go above and beyond language just as our earlier readings have suggested. Here is Alicia, speaking of the prisoner she is to words as well. But as Alex, at least, makes the effort to rise above the convention and restrictions we are flooded with, Alicia speaks of a character that finds defeat through the standard and norms of society. This character does not want to offend, does not want to turn anyone away, but in doing so she builds the bars that make her a prisoner. Alex, though some of us may not understand how it all works, does not build any bars or forge any chains. Alex is a guerrilla in the revolution...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08581037745519465607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-40452300801283778942010-12-03T12:31:00.000-08:002010-12-03T12:31:17.168-08:00Productive Questions/Assignments<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: Arial;">Part 1: Essay<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Due by noon on December 13<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Write about at least 3 specific works by Alex Caldiero (at least one each from the performance, the film, and the book) in the context of at least 3 specific works we read and discussed in the sections called "the shape of the shapeless: undermining the limits of language" and “the first casualty of war is language” – at least one work from each section.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About 6-7 pages.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Draw on notes you have taken during discussions of the texts in class, read the authors’ works closely and carefully, and think rigorously and creatively about the questions you are answering. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Don’t write personally about the questions. Don’t simply associate other things with what you read. Instead, use passages from the texts to establish patterns of ideas. What is the author saying in these passages and how do they relate to passages from other texts and authors? That’s your most basic task, to lay out what the text means. Do not stop with paraphrase. If you do, you’re just repeating. Your job is to analyze what you find/what you read, to make sense of the ideas, to find patterns in the texts that you can show to have meaning related to the meanings of other texts. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Part 2: Prepare your Notes and Scraps for evaluation.</span></u><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">On the same day, December 13, hand in your notes/scraps. Include:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">notes</b> you have taken in the second half of the class, notes you have made about (on) each of the texts we have read and discussed, notes you have written to others about this material, all other notes taken or written or drawn for or about this class.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">2. All the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">scraps</b> you have collected, references to the various topics, complementary materials, essays, articles, etchings, clippings and so on related to language in general and specifically, in short: the rich collection of materials you have made in response to our readings and discussions. If you have posted to the Languagescraps blog, note what you have posted.</span><!--EndFragment-->Scott Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01782322856303315648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-470618720519504822010-12-01T20:51:00.000-08:002010-12-01T21:21:39.903-08:00Helen Keller and Language...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoqGWuxUr5uoTM7Fmx6o6iNh5CHU5c9kvNzj3tsI4UYx95t-EFYfcI06fPuv8ZCoKux6uf6MB6cdo5RaqCJDW8dfWGhLQ3URIwqctinRmp46YMQQtbNTqbLu0lxEdaJdLpXvLG14kgrI/s1600/keller3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoqGWuxUr5uoTM7Fmx6o6iNh5CHU5c9kvNzj3tsI4UYx95t-EFYfcI06fPuv8ZCoKux6uf6MB6cdo5RaqCJDW8dfWGhLQ3URIwqctinRmp46YMQQtbNTqbLu0lxEdaJdLpXvLG14kgrI/s320/keller3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545943427894201410" /></a><br /><div>One of Alex's performances tonight, the one where Alex was feeling his face and making sounds, actually reminded me of Helen Keller - and I mean this as no disrespect to Alex or Helen Keller.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am really shocked that I haven't ever made the connection between Helen Keller and our class yet... She is one of the most extreme and perfect examples of language. She became blind and deaf while she was a baby and from that point on was at odds with language in all forms. Imagine what an incredible breakthrough it must have been for her to finally be able to communicate - "water" was the word that unlocked language for Helen Keller. At that moment she was on the verge of discovering the entire realm that is language.</div><div><br /></div><div>Being at that moment when she was on the verge of communication is what struck me about Alex's performance. It seemed, to me at least, that that specific piece was about being on the verge of language - it was something that was working its way from within, trying to make its way out. It is a pivotal place and so frequently we teeter on that pinnacle waiting to fall to one side or the other and I think Alex's piece was trying to demonstrate that.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now if you'll excuse me, it is time for the raffle now...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-83437937108404627872010-12-01T11:24:00.000-08:002010-12-01T11:59:10.354-08:00The DreamI wanted to share an experience I had when I was younger. I've never really been able to talk about it because, well, I've never understood it. Regardless, I was reminded of this while watching Alex play with sound in the film.<div><br /></div><div>All my life I have been an extremely light sleeper. When I say light, I mean if someone so much as touched the doorknob to my room I would wake. It's so bad that I've developed the habit of sleeping with a fan so as to drown out minor sounds that would otherwise wake me during the night. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I was about thirteen years old I had a recurring nightmare. It was just me, in a dark room, where there was complete and utter silence except for the very quiet and static sound of what I can only describe as a leaky faucet. I would try and run away, scream and talk but I would run and go nowhere; I would try and speak but no sound would come out. I was enveloped in silence and the single static sound. This dream instilled a fear in me that I have never felt before. I would wake up screaming and drenched in sweat. Specifically, there was one night that was unlike any other. That night I was literally so scared I slept walked as an attempt to escape my horrific nightmare. Not a very common action for someone who wakes up at the drop of a pin. However, I didn't just sleep walk around my house no, I literally slept walked down the street, around three in the morning, to my grandma's house. I woke up on her doorstep.</div><div><br /></div><div>How is it that a mere sound petrified me to such an extent that I slept walked? It could only be the shapeless.</div>Colten Stricklandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06567349688826779371noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-43767313081293494682010-12-01T08:53:00.000-08:002010-12-03T18:44:41.015-08:00Healthy Decadence: With a drawing by Alex as the Prime Example<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Published by the Salt Lake Art Center as an insert to <i>Catalyst Magazine</i><br />
<i><br />
</i></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Healthy Decadence? Utah Art Through a German Lens</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
25 May 1998<br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">A century-old barge rides at permanent anchor at the edge of the Danube just outside Belgrade. My friend Zarko Radakovic and I find a table in the sun. Most of the guests on the barge are drinking Jelen Pivo, “Stag Beer,” brewed in Yugoslavia since 1756. The shoulders of the brown bottles are rubbed white with hundreds of recyclings.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
A middle-aged man docks a motorboat next to the barge and joins us at our table. His name is Vuk and he and Zarko have known each other since grade school.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
“Two years ago,” Vuk tells us at one point in the desultory conversation, “short of money, I agreed to make a campaign film for Mira Markovic’s political party. She’s Slobodan Miloševic’s wife. It was kitsch, pure kitsch, and very effective. I had a whole sequence with neon lights that shot the word PROGRESS across the screen: PROGRESS . . . PROGRESS . . . PROGRESS.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">It was a brilliant piece of propaganda. Since then I’ve called myself Vuk Riefenstahl. I learned everything from Leni Riefenstahl’s films <i>Triumph of the Will </i>and <i>Olympia</i>. She was a genius at making the people so small and the great leader so large. I don’t worry about having done the job. I needed the money and the country is absolute chaos anyway. It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do, it doesn’t change anything anyway. Absolute chaos, and so I just made the film and now can keep my boat running.”</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
26 March, 1999</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">While bombs are falling today in Serbia, I remember last year’s discussion with the cynical film maker and ask myself several questions: What kinds of art please the powers that be? What kinds of art do rulers fear? What kinds of rhetoric do governing bodies use to suppress art that makes them uncomfortable? What is propaganda? And what kinds of art serve us best as citizens of a diverse, precarious, and changing world? [the rest of the article <a href="http://works.bepress.com/scott_abbott/59/">here</a>]</div>Scott Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01782322856303315648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-88113478270079080912010-11-29T12:44:00.000-08:002010-11-29T12:44:32.675-08:00The Sonosopher: Some ThoughtsFor the DVD that will be out next week, I wrote an essay called "Fixing the Sonosopher." Here a couple of the thoughts that came to me again after seeing the film today:<br />
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;">Fixing the Sonosopher<o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;">by Scott Abbott<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;">About three years ago I was bathing with a young man whose development at that time had a wonderful grace about it. . . . As it happened we had just seen, in Paris, the youth pulling a thorn out of his foot. . . . Resting his foot on a stool, to dry it, and glancing at himself as he did so in a large mirror, he was reminded of the statue; he smiled and told me what he had seen. . . . He raised his foot a second time, to show me; but the attempt, very predictably, failed. In confusion he raised his foot a third time, a fourth, again and again, a dozen times: in vain. He was incapable of reproducing the movement. . . . From that day, or from that very moment, forth the young man underwent an unbelievable transformation. He began spending days in front of the mirror; and one after the other all his charms deserted him. </span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond;">(From Heinrich von Kleist’s “The Puppet Theatre,” translation by David Constantine)<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>About three weeks ago I had lunch with a man of my age whose performances as a “Sonosopher” have a wonderful, if sometimes terrible, grace about them. We spoke about a film he had recently collaborated on. After seeing himself through the camera’s eye, Alex said, he has been unable to reproduce the movements, the gestures, the sounds the camera recorded. At least he can no longer do so naturally. His charms, he fears, have deserted him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I mentioned the young man in Kleist’s essay.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Exactly, he said. I’ve been robbed of the grace of un-self-conscious movement. I’ve been pinned to a specimen board for observation.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You feel like you’ve been fixed? I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;">Yes, he answered. The film has fixed me, neutered me. How do I continue? My work is process, my media are temporal, sonorous, fleeting. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;">To what extent is that true? I wondered later. Has this film, in fact, fixed the Sonosopher? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond;">As with all works of art, from one version to the next there’s a sense of panic brought on by the knowledge that the composer or writer or painter or filmmaker will have to settle on the final, fixed version, knowing all the time that it is just one of an infinite number of versions. Documentary films of a certain kind work to make their audiences forget that fact, constructing a seamless and supposedly truthful narrative. This, I take it, is what Alex most feared.<o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment-->Scott Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01782322856303315648noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229116074975538397.post-67768486029564006932010-11-21T13:18:00.000-08:002010-11-21T13:18:44.260-08:00Do The Right Thing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBN-3K_b94zNsIPS_H0irGsCQKLW-LAltYKJx7nG_rQejeEabCP9lLgmCMblSryXIbvgOf9lhjLbZEQ-c3bkCsQg_eOGjUQ7B9XefY5SrzkZZNzMAXBg5L3HYbfFGjN8v5ya1dP4bmVOE/s1600/selective-service-form-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBN-3K_b94zNsIPS_H0irGsCQKLW-LAltYKJx7nG_rQejeEabCP9lLgmCMblSryXIbvgOf9lhjLbZEQ-c3bkCsQg_eOGjUQ7B9XefY5SrzkZZNzMAXBg5L3HYbfFGjN8v5ya1dP4bmVOE/s320/selective-service-form-1.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><br />
I was in the Post Office the other day and saw this pamphlet. The current tactic for getting our young men to register for war..."Do The Right Thing", "It's The Law". They have no choice!<br />
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I realize this is the database used if there was ever another draft. <br />
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When I saw the pamphlet, I immediately thought of Scott's question "How do you get someone to fight in war?"Ameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11506070606406052896noreply@blogger.com1