This is an ex-parrot!

Believe it or not, I chanced upon this video as part of some genuine philosophical research. As a bonus, it's hysterical.

"This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It's a stiff: bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot!"

So much of Monty Python's style has either dated badly or been incorporated into the fabric of contemporary comedy as to seem passé that one forgets how funny they really were!

Portishead

Little reason but for the facts (a) that this is a good video, and (b) that it's been a Portishead kind of day (whatever that means) ...

American Philosophy?

A new documentary (previously excerpted here) appears to be forthcoming. From the trailer, it looks promising, if (perhaps) confused.

It's an interesting topic: is there such a thing as American philosophy (other than in the merely extensional sense that Michael Hodges mentions)? Certainly, in this extensional sense, I'm an American philosopher, but (qua philosopher, anyway) I am decidedly uninterested in the various themes that are mentioned at the end of the clip (freedom, justice, oppression, etc.).

Moreover, it appears to include a somewhat idiosyncratic selection of interviewees, and some of the filmic outbursts seem sophomoric. Hard to tell what kind of tone it's trying to set, or what audience it seeks. Would this really interest a lay audience? Then again, is it likely to inform philosophers?

Also, there's a rather cruel moment (at about 4:42 remaining), where the editor pauses on the image of Prof. Erin McKenna (Pacific Lutheran University), as if to suggest that it's she who is eccentric. (Watch it in context, beginning at 5:54 remaining.)

But maybe, as they say, any press is good press. Maybe. In any case, here's the trailer:

Shasta Take-Down

I'm not much of a Pat Forde fan, but this excerpt from his column on ESPN.com is pretty funny ...

Shasta To Golden Bear: Duck!

If you're even vaguely acquainted with YouTube, you've probably seen the video of the Sept. 1 mascot throwdown between Shasta (26) the Houston Cougar and the Oregon Duck (27). It's gone worldwide, reportedly drawing especially enthusiastic response in Japan.

NOTE: Somehow I managed to miss this footage myself, so, in case you did also, here it is ...



Hysterical. Back to Forde ...

The video shows a one-sided, web-footed whuppin' at Autzen Stadium, with the Duck abusing poor Shasta far beyond the bounds of normal mascot playfulness. Punches, kicks and a flying elbow drop were enough to get the deranged Duck suspended for Oregon's home game against Fresno State on Sept. 15. But according to Houston, it was selective film usage.

"For what it's worth, [Shasta] did stick the Duck at least once," offered Houston sports information director Chris Burkhalter.

As it turns out, Houston has more than just a fake-furred mascot's manhood to protect. The guy in the Cougar suit happens to be a walk-on wide receiver named Matt Stolt (28) -- and you simply cannot have a football player being owned by a duck.

So Stolt explained his relative passivity: "Being a mascot is for the fans, it's to represent the school. If you want to fight, take off the gear. He wasn't fighting Matt Stolt, he was fighting Shasta. Shasta got his licks in, but he wasn't there to fight. If it was just me and him, I'd take off the suit and fight."

Stolt admitted he has "taken a little flak" from his teammates over the fight.

"They said there's no reason I should be taking it from a duck," he said.

This is just another line on Stolt's varied Joe College résumé. He's a mascot, he's a football player -- and for his first two years at Houston he played trumpet in the marching band. The only job Stolt hasn't had at home football games is selling popcorn.

"I just like being a part of something and I like to represent UH," said Stolt, a Texas native who will graduate in May with a degree in kinesiology.

With California visiting Oregon on Saturday for a major showdown, The Dash thought it wise to get Cal's Golden Bear (29) a scouting report on the Duck's dirty tricks. Oskie once got into quite a dustup with the Stanford Tree (30) during a basketball game, but this could be a step up in class.

Here's the dish on the duck from Shasta:

"My advice to any mascot that goes against him is not to worry. There won't be a problem. I think the duck's in enough trouble right now. But if it comes to that, just turn that duck's head around so he can't see nothin'."

Obama's Strategy

In today's Times (UK), Andrew Sullivan has a perceptive, big-picture take on Barack Obama's strategy and standing in the Democratic primary now underway. Here's the money quote:

In a polarized climate, where Rudy Giuliani is already lambasting Hillary and itching for a fight, Obama is sticking to a disciplined message of reconciliation, unity, responsibility.

Is this a mistake? Whoever won a Democratic primary by insisting on being open to Republicans? That is the risk Obama is taking. But when you observe and listen closely, you see this is what he actually means.

He detects an enormous weariness among Americans about their internal divisions in a time of war, overlaid by the anger and divisions that have deepened and widened under the Bush presidency. He suspects that if he can get past Clinton’s aura of inevitability, Democrats will realise he has a much better chance of winning a real national majority in the general election than Clinton does. Clinton polarises the way Bush polarises. She can hope for a Karl Rove-style 51% majority in a deeply divided country. He’s aiming for 55%.

Clinton, in other words, represents payback for the Democrats and liberals after the Bush era, just as Giuliani is emerging as the inheritor of the Bush legacy of divide and rule. Right now, Obama remains to the side, offering Americans something else: not payback, but a new page.

The rest of the article is available here.

I think Sullivan is absolutely correct about the kind of strategy Obama is relying upon, and he's right that it could well fail. The hard question is whether we should prefer to fail with his strategy or to win with hers. My fear is that we are bound to do both.

Manamana

Classic:


Classic:

R.I.P.

I've long had a penchant for obituaries. Something about the stock-taking involved attracts me.

Something that's always bothered me is how unfortunate it is that the notable-but-not-household-name deaths are over-shadowed by the deaths of the more famous. It's no one's fault, but somehow it seems to add insult to injury.

For instance, while I admit to tearing up every time I hear him eulogize himself through recordings played on TV and radio, Pavarotti's recent expiration outshone that of Alex, the African grey parrot who died the same day, and about whom I've written previously. Alex's last squawk just couldn't compete with Luciano's glorious tenor, but his untimely death (he was expected to live for many more years) deserves mention.

Likewise, amidst the September 11th memorials, we didn't stop to pay our respects to the great Joe Zawinul, who died on that fateful date this year. But Zawinul was an extraordinary composer, keyboardist, and band-leader. Listening to John McLaughlin talk today reminded me of how difficult it would be to conceive of jazz fusion without Zawinul, Bitch's Brew, and Weather Report.

And then there's the recent spate of philosopher deaths. When the big-shots die, the profession bows its head -- or thumbs its nose, as the case may be. But also significant are the less heralded losses: those like Susan Hurley -- whose obituary didn't make the national papers in the UK until nearly a month following her death (The Guardian, The Times) -- Michael Frede -- who drowned off the coast of Greece and whose death has yet to be acknowledged in any national paper (though the Berkeley Classics department has a notice here) -- and Timothy Sprigge -- whose death seems to have attracted about as much notice as his work, I'm sorry to say.

The world has become significantly poorer following these departures. So it seems to me anyway, even if not to the mass media. And so we acknowledge them here, lest they be forgotten.

UPDATE: Okay, so Frede's death was noted in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung.

It was like this

An exquisite poem, from a recent collection (After) by Jane Hirshfield -- quickly emerging as one of the most significant voices in contemporary American poetry.

It was like this: you were happy

It was like this: you were happy,
then you were sad, then happy again,
then not.

It went on.

You were innocent or you were guilty.
Actions were taken, or not.
At times you spoke, at other times you were silent.
Mostly, it seems you were silent–what could you say?

Now it is almost over.

Like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life. It does this not in forgiveness– between you, there is nothing to forgive– but with the single nod of a baker at the moment he sees the bread is finished with transformation.

Eating, too, is now a thing only for others.

It doesn’t matter what they make of you or your days: they will be wrong. They will miss the wrong woman, miss the wrong man, all the stories they tell will be tales of their own invention.

Your story was this: you were happy, then you were sad, you slept, you awakened. Sometimes you ate roasted chestnuts, sometimes persimmons.

A nice profile of Hirshfield can be found here.

Fabulous Ad

Antonioni & Bergman

While I wouldn’t go so far as to suggest parity between the talents of these two towering figures in the history of 20th-century filmmaking, nevertheless there is something fitting in the news that Michaelangelo Antonioni has died just a day after the death of Ingmar Bergman -- in the fact that his death will be obscured by the parade of tributes and retrospectives given in Bergman's honor.

While both of these directors (along with Fellini and Godard) came to symbolize foreign, “art house” cinema for American audiences of the 50s, 60s, and 70s, Antonioni’s stature and notoriety paled in comparison to Bergman’s. That’s undoubtedly appropriate. The depth and significance of Bergman’s work are (arguably) second to none in the history of film. Period. But whilst Antonioni’s films were light and accessible by comparison -- no chess-matches with death for this Italian -- they have been, I think, somewhat short-changed.

Dumbfounded by Vanessa Redgrave and the swinging mania of 60s London, it is not difficult to overlook the fundamental questions raised in Antonioni’s Blow-Up (1966). At its core, this film is a remarkably deep interrogation of our preconception that perception is essential to the apprehension of reality: as deep a topic as any raised by Bergman. Not that you’d know it from the trailer ...



Likewise, the incandescence of Jack Nicholson’s presence in The Passenger (1975) obscures (as he does in all of his appearances) the light Antonioni is attempting to shed on the dangers of a fluid conception of identity.



These are serious issues worthy of -- dare we say it -- Bergman. And so they were, but so were they also for this Italian auteur, dead at 94, just hours after the Swedish master.

Other Antonioni films of note:

• L'avventura (1960)
• L'eclisse (1962)
• Zabriskie Point (1970)
• Beyond the Clouds (1995, with Wim Wenders)

A few recent tributes, etc.:

• Woody Allen on Bergman (NYT)
• A Bergman quiz (The Guardian)
• Antonioni's obituary (NYT)
• Notable Antonioni scenes (The Guardian)

UPDATE: The Guardian picks up the scent.

Die Harry

Busy days, these, so I can't really justify devoting the time necessary to articulate precisely why I find Harry mania to be as stomach-turning as I do. Fortunately, Ron Charles (senior editor at The Washington Post) has done a marvelous job of it himself, thus relieving me from my duty. (Similarly minded discussions from literary heavyweights A. S. Byatt and Harold Bloom appeared previously.) Charles' insightful discussion begins with the following anecdote:

Harry Potter and the Death of Reading
By Ron Charles
The Washington Post
July 15, 2007

It happened on a dark night, somewhere in the middle of Book IV. For three years, I had dutifully read the "Harry Potter" series to my daughter, my voice growing raspy with the effort, page after page. But lately, whole paragraphs of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" had started to slip by without my hearing a word. I'd snap back to attention and realize the action had moved from Harry's room to Hagrid's house, and I had no idea what was happening.

And that's when my daughter broke the spell: "Do we have to keep reading this?"

That's as priceless as the rest of Charles' analysis is insightful. It reminds me of this fabulous moment from the Simpsons:



In fact, the parodies may be the best thing about the Harry Potter series. Some of the fabulous Mad Magazine titles from this sub-genre:

• Harry Plodder and the Kidney Stone
• Harry Plodder and the Sorry-Ass Story
• Harry Plodder and the Lamest of Sequels
• Harry Plodder Has Gotta Retire
• Harry Plodder and the Torture of the Fanbase

Simpsonize Me!

Well, with the new Simpsons Movie opening this weekend, it seems as good a time as any to unveil my Simpsonized self ...

Get yours here!

Richard Rorty (1931–2007)

In the polite company of analytic philosophers, it is not fashionable to avow an appreciation of Richard Rorty. The man who famously defected from mainstream analytic philosophy in the late 1970s is today widely viewed as intellectually irresponsible: glib, self-serving, unconcerned with rigorous argument.

Rorty has long been a spectre looming over my own intellectual development. I was 18 years old when I enrolled in my first graduate seminar: a term-long discussion of Rorty’s controversial Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature (Princeton, 1979). Only later did I come to appreciate that to begin one's study of philosophy with Rorty's work was about as advisable as beginning with Nietzsche’s Twilight of the Idols. I hadn’t worshipped all of the idols that Rorty was keen to hammer into oblivion -- I hadn’t yet done my due diligence with Plato, Descartes, Kant, et al. -- and I recall having the acute sense that I was skipping straight to the last few pages of a long novel the rest of which I hadn't read.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t felt the betrayal that many philosophers seem to have felt over the years. Or perhaps I just admire the maverick that Rorty was. And he was a maverick. Analytic philosophy is rather short on mavericks. Now that Rorty is gone, Peter Singer is about as close as we get -- especially since Cornel West doesn’t seem to identify as a philosopher anymore.

In any case, I for one will miss his presence.


Stanford University's obituary can be found here.

UPDATE: A wonderful collection of reflections and reminiscences can be found at Slate.com here.

Make Me Fries!

I used to think that I was alone in struggling to understand Pearl Jam lyrics. It's comforting knowing that I have company ...



Fabulous!

Hallowes’ Ground

Check out this remarkable tale ... Harry Hallowes, a North London local, has squatted on a 90-ft.-square plot of land on the edge of Hampstead Heath in Highgate for more than twenty years. Following an attempt to evict him from his shack, Hallowes was recently awarded the deed to the land when he claimed “squatter’s rights.”

I'm not sure what's more surprising here: that Hallowes won his case, or that there's actually undeveloped land in Highgate!

More details in today’s Daily Mail, as well as The Times of London and BBC News.

Tonic Update: Ribot to Jail

In a previous post, I told you that the fabulous Lower East Side club, Tonic, was -- very much against its will -- soon to shut its doors for good. Well, it seems that one of Tonic's most notable regulars wasn’t going to take this lying down ... or standing up. Whatever one doesn't do when one protests. I think he was seated when the police arrived, so I suppose that means he wasn't going to take it lying down or standing up. Whatever. What's important is that our hero wasn't going to take it ... in any position!

Details and interview here:

More A Semiotician Than A Guitarist: Marc Ribot Goes to Jail
By Jesse Jarnow
Jambands.com
May 11, 2007

Marc Ribot went to jail so you could keep rocking. Or listening quietly, dancing, or however you enjoy live music. Though he wasn't dragged from the Tonic stage playing his guitar, the former squatter came awfully close, refusing to leave on April 14th, the day the new tenants took over the lease from experimental music's largest Manhattan home. Ribot and Take It to the Bridge -- an organization he co-founded with musician Rebecca Moore -- are demanding that the city provide a new venue to the Lower East Side avant-garde community that has occupied the neighborhood for a century.

Like many of Ribot's other projects, his musical sit-in also employed Tonic's red velvet curtain as a backdrop. Instead of angular jazz, though, Ribot played the trespasser. "I've always considered myself more a semiotician than a guitarist anyway," the frequent Tom Waits collaborator told JamBands.com in his matter-of-fact Zappa-like deadpan. Point taken. Playing Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness Of You" unamplified, police officers looking on, Ribot and Moore were soon hauled off.

...

Once a leather-jacketed/spiky-haired young lion of the New York jazz scene, Ribot has transformed into something of a still-restless statesman, now more often seen in a blazer and spectacles. Though he leads a half-dozen projects of his own (including Ceramic Dog, Los Cubanos Postizos, and ongoing collboration with bassist Henry Grimes), plays often with Tom Waits, John Zorn, Medeski Martin and Wood, and others, and has done session work with everybody from Allen Ginsberg to Trey Anastasio, Ribot is still exactly who he was when he started: a Manhattan jazz musician. And, right now, real estate developers are getting in the way of him making a living. Forgive him if he's pissed.

Click here for the rest of the story, including a length interview with the man himself. And his fascinating blog entry from last year concerning the downtown music scene can be found here. Finally, sign the protest here. Go on: sign it!

Re-Run

You missed Tom on Conan, didn't you? Shame. But what more could I have done? Weren't you paying attention when I told you about it? I can't watch the damn thing for you, you know?

Well, fortunately for you, Youtube comes to your rescue yet again. To wit:

Mothers Day

So, we celebrate Mothers Day this weekend. The provenance of this "holiday" is somewhat disputed, but I am partial to the following version of its history:

According to local legend, Albion pioneer, Juliet Calhoun Blakeley, stepped up to complete the sermon of the Rev. Myron Daughterty, who was distraught because an anti-temperance group had forced his son and two other temperance advocates to spend the night in a saloon and become publicly drunk. In the pulpit, Blakeley called on other mothers to join her. Blakeley's two sons, both travelling salesmen, were so moved that they vowed to return each year to pay tribute to her and embarked on a campaign to urge their business contacts to do likewise. At their urging, in the early 1880s, the Methodist Episcopal Church in Albion set aside the second Sunday in May to recognize the special contributions of mothers.

The source of my sympathy for this account is two-fold. First, given the opportunity, my own mother would, no doubt, also welcome the opportunity to express her displeasure at my long evenings in the saloon. (Is 'anti-temperance group' a euphemism for "peer-pressuring teens"?) Second, Blakeley's sermon took place in Albion, Michigan: professed home of Mothers Day, and former hometown of ours.

Happy Mothers Day, mom!

The Queen

A number of years ago, while a graduate student in Oxford, I had the opportunity to meet the Queen. No, not Queen -- though a conversation with Freddy Mercury probably would've been more interesting. (Who else can cite the oil-and-water duo of Jimi Hendrix and Liza Minnelli as his two favorite performers?!) Meeting HM was definitely cool, and I got some nifty photos of she and me out of it. (Must remember to dig those out at some point.) But one of the details of the whole affair that I remember most vividly was the unsavory positioning and back-biting acquaintances displayed in order to secure one of the select invitations. Something about the little lady in the big hat -- with the even bigger sceptre! -- makes folks nuts ...

So, it's with no small amount of interest that we review the guest list for last night's state dinner at the White House, at which the Queen and Prince Philip were the guests of honor. Check it out here.

No one seems to have seized on it yet, but the cross-section of folks in attendance is quite striking. Until I saw it, I expected that the list would include the predictable "who's who" of the Washington elite. But, while there's no shortage of politicos and cronies, more remarkable is the selection of non-Washington folks. A few examples:

- Marta Domingo (wife of Maestro Placido Domingo)
- Elisabeth Hasselbeck (host of "The View") & Timothy Hasselbeck (professional football player)
- Peyton Manning (professional football player) & Ashley Manning
- John Marion (honorary chairman, Sotheby's North America) & Anne Marion
- James W. Nantz III (CBS sportscaster) & Ann-Lorraine Nantz
- Arnold Palmer (professional golfer) & Kathleen Palmer
- Itzhak Perlman (violinist) & Toby Lynn Perlman
- Rohan De Silva (pianist)

Mind you, I have no objections to any of these people per se. But how exactly are they selected? (I’m reminded of a similarly incredulous tone from years ago.) And what exactly do they represent? Surely not America. Is this a glimpse into Bush’s circle of influence? Is the sports world’s aristocratic family, the Manning’s, tight with the political world’s aristocratic family, the Bush’s? And why would Marta Domingo attend without her tenor husband? And does Domingo’s presence mean that Bush isn’t a Carreras or a Pavarotti man? And do we really want Elisabeth “I believe that life begins at the moment of penetration” Hasselbeck speaking for the American public?! And what the hell is Jim Nantz doing there anyway?!

We need a bi-partisan Senate commission to look into this!

Windows on the World

For the past year or so, Andrew Sullivan (of The Daily Dish) has invited readers of his blog to submit photographs of the view from their windows. Every day, Sullivan posts some of those photographs, and they are -- almost without exception -- fabulous!

Well, now he’s compiled them (and many that haven’t been posted) into this flash-animation site. His introduction to the site is worth a quick read here.

I highly recommend it. And if you zoom in on Oxford, England, the first photo you’ll see is mine!