With graduation ceremonies not far-afield and on-going but muted controversies over pedagogy and educational policies are becoming endemic to America's system and hand-wringing over commencement speakers, Brain Pickings' weekly newsletter features an endearing review of collected reflections from author Kurt Vonnegut, JR about his years of touring that circuit.
If this isn't Nice, What is? (with the subtitle: advice to the young) is a recursive title for the essays and memories since no other message could be as important and galvanising? Vonnegut delivers many, many noteworthy gems on community, society and being human but one that really struck me (building on his exhortation to curate more and more relatives through membership and outreach) was how “a computer can teach a child what a computer can become... an educated human being teaches a child what a child can become” and this was formulated in 1999. The over-arching and hopeful message that this gadfly was intent on delivering was that of being grateful and appreciating, feelings that we all tend to find estrangingly distant and are more used to agonising over small things and substitute for the former genuine feelings with indulgence or the resignation that things could be worse and bubbles of comfort and security. Check out at least the brilliant treatment of Maria Popova or better yet, read the entire book.
Sunday, 20 April 2014
look to this day graduates
four-and-score
No matter what your jurisdiction or cachet, it is well-nigh impossible to be much more exalted than when Easter Sunday corresponds with 04-20.
The annual observance is derived from what was a daily ritual among California high school students, announcing, in code, that they would gather at a predeter- mined location at four-twenty in the afternoon to smoke. This call sign was transposed to the 20th of April (American time and dating style) as a holiday for Cannabis Culture. In honour of this coincidence, I thought it apt to direct ones attention to the beautiful gallery of microscopic slides of the marijuana plant's morphology that the excellent website Neat-o-Rama featured a few days earlier. The images are truly astounding and appropriate, like this extreme close-up of a growing bud, which looks like the other-worldly hiding place for a cache of colourful Easter eggs.
Saturday, 19 April 2014
rรผckstoร oder harmonium
Loans that the European Union thrust upon Ukraine in its moment of crisis were not exactly given without stint, since among the terms and conditions were pledges for austerity, if an any way the loans could counter-balance Russian calling in of debts and payments in arrears that would completely bankrupt the country. These measures have taken the form of closing down mining and factory operations in the eastward-leaning east—in what's being touted as necessary streamlining, which is sure to exacerbate already tenuous sentiment.
vรถlva
strahlende
Thursday, 17 April 2014
dovunque al mondo or rent to own
Last night I got a chance to spend a cultural evening out and saw moving production of Giacomo Puccini's Madame Butterfly, hosted in the very fancy venue of the storied state theatre. I was expecting tragedy and melodrama, being an opera, but did not recall the actual story and subject, thinking wisps of what I remembered to be possibly a contemporary interpretation: an American naval officer is stationed in Nagasaki at the turn of the century, and through the US Consul acting as an intermediary, purchases a house staffed with domestics and is introduced to the breathtaking and available Butterfly.
Despondent and restless though afraid to make a commitment, the Navy officer decides to wed Butterfly—at least until he can find a "proper American wife" and due to Japanese mores and marriage laws (as interpreted at the time by an Italian librettist) in comparison to the relatively stricter rules regarding divorce (but not polygamy) in America. The officer, Benjamin Franklin Pinkerton speaks of a lease of nine-hundred ninety nine years with the option of quiting in the coming months. Butterfly has already garnered her family’s displeasure by marrying a foreigner—a wealthy local businessman is also making overtures for Butterfly's affections but she rebuffs his advances, and covertly converts to Christianity for the sake of her new life, renouncing Buddhism and her ancestral, household gods. A short while later, the officer is assigned to another port of call in the US and is away for three years. Butterfly divulges to the Consul, whom she hopes to implore for her husband to return, that she had born the officer a son in secret.
The Consul does manage to arrange the officer's return, but the officer brings his new American bride with him and plans to take custody of the young child and raise him in America. This modern opera is itself a direct adaptation of earlier stories, but I am not sure in what context and what allegorical elements are intentionally writ, how direct and literal, but it was certainly the musical element of the score that came across as most emotive. As the orchestra was striking its limbering cacophony before the curtains parted, those strains they played of the Star-Spangled Banner, the US anthem—were random exercises, like hearing snatches from the Miss Marple theme or scales during this warm-up—and not samplings from the liet motif. We'll have to have a night at opera together real soon.