I’m not 100% sold on the argument, but…
Why, any 2-bit not-to-be
can link up words– say, “Poetry!”
authenticate
his current state.
Read the Whole Thing. (h/t The Other McCain)
A recent viewing of the film Inherent Vice led me to try to finish The Crying of Lot 49, which I abandoned out of frustration some time ago. I’ve made a small amount of headway, but am bored again.
Action is not being built. The plot is not going anywhere. The woman with the ridiculous name is having conversations with other people with ridiculous names about random nonsense that’s supposed to be relevatory but is entirely unconnected with what she’s ostensibly doing. I struggle to care.
It’s baffling to me that I can be so close to the end of a book this short and feel no desire to continue. This seems to be a problem I have with literature from this era. The Beats, Burroughs, Joyce, Waiting for Godot, it all seems so enamored of itself for frustrating readers as to form a kind of anti-literature. It’s less like reading a book than joining a Hermetic cult.
Call it the need for status, for differentiation from the semi-literate masses, but the need to set up a hyper-literacy, from the New Criticism on down, strikes me as largely self-defeating. No wonder all our cultural battles are fought over popcorn movies.
Book Awards are becoming increasingly ridiculous, an extension of Twitter rhetorical battlefields with some side-talk about literature.
You should read it in full, as it nicely encapsulates the descent into madness that has resulted from the beachhead politics has made into fandom and entertainment. But this in particular amused me:
I’ve tried understanding American politics before, and it’s a bizarre mutation. Their conservatives are, like ours, highly religious, but they also champion freedom of speech, like our liberals, and they want a minarchist state, preferring to let market economies work. Their liberals are, like ours, pro-equality, but unlike ours they seem to disfavor freedom of speech and prefer heavier government structures. This is interesting, because this markets bit at least comes from the economist Hayek, who championed free markets at all cost. Hayek’s views were considered liberal in his day and would be considered a liberal pretty much anywhere else; it was Keynes who was the conservative.
This is like driving on the left side. They take something normal and do it the other way around.
Well played, sir.
Robert E. Howard was, I am coming to understand, a master of his craft.
What is the difference between a real savage and a noble savage? Let us look into the iron shadows of the moonlight for an answer.
This story is well suited to the question, for it just so happens to have a lovely, half-clad and large-eyed brunette in distress; a highly civilized oriental aristocrat bent on her dishonor; a rough and semi-civilized pirate chief who hates Conan with hot passion (and wants him hanged on a hook); eldritch monuments from a forgotten civilization, haunted perhaps with the ghosts of an accursed peoples; and an apelike monstrosity equally likely to originate from the darkness of prehistory as the darkness of the netherworld.
In other words, we have one antagonist from each season of the rise and fall of cultures from primitive to civilized to decadent to dark ages and back to prehistory again.
As they say, Read the Whole Thing. And I have further contrasts of Conan with more modern fiction here, if you’re into that sort of thing.
All of Cal Newport’s books could be titled, “How to Be an Effective Person.” Or, maybe, “How to Be an Effective Person In This Technological Epoch.” Digital Minimalism is, like Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World, about why you should quit or drastically limit the digital distractions that have proliferated in […]
via Digital Minimalism — Cal Newport — The Story’s Story
∞
Actually, Thomas Fitz hates tomatoes, but Caligulia is there for his politcal theory and and we start rounding the bend on the third act of Ulysses and the Fugitive. It’s a strong issue. Read it here for free.
Here’s something I wrote, in a short burst:
You must,
In each blue moment
Embrace your Freedom.And in the
sickly wilderness
of intention,Recognize the you
that intends
and is free.
Fine. Sure. But what does any of it mean? What was I thinking about when I scribbled it my journal?
Because it sounds interesting. It also sound vague and greeting-cardy, depending on one’s point of view. But it meant something to me at the time.
