Isaac Gulihur Residence, New Salem State Park, Lincoln's New Salem, Ill.
Provenance: Unknown.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The Forgotten Lands: San Jesús
San Jesús
Capital: San Jesús
Population: 248,441 (2008)
Area: 1,027 km2
Independence: 1814
Economy: A uniquely dual economy, with a modest import and export trade of information technology and services coexisting with a low-tech, subsistence-style agriculture.
Per Capita Income: US$40,120
Languages: Dialectical French, English, Spanish
Literacy Rate: 98%
“It is fortunate that the world has forgotten San Jesús,” wrote Margaret Mead in 1954. “If we remembered, we would be unable to face the reality we have constructed.” It is unclear, however, why Mead (who never actually visited San Jesús) had such a negative impression of life there. By almost any standard, the largely ignored island nation has fared better than most of its neighbors in the Caribbean. A relatively small population, mostly descendants of the slaves who worked a French sugar plantation that operated from 1762 to 1814, lived for many decades in an environment of unparalleled natural abundance. “On San Jesús,” according to a florid 1923 article in National Geographic, “fruit and gourds rise as if invoked by the farmer’s neat fields, and ocean fish all but throw themselves into the waiting nets of the fishermen.”
There is a strong tradition of schooling and literacy on San Jesús, and since the 1950s the island’s most talented students have often found scholarships to top universities in the United States, Latin America, and Europe. The resulting pool of technical expertise has fostered the blossoming of an active software and information technology industry in a country that has virtually no “hard” industrial technology.
Indeed, San Jesúsians seem immune to many of the siren calls of modern life; in 2008, for instance, it remained the only independent country with no television broadcasting. Tourism is virtually nonexistent, but the rare visitor speaks of beautiful cities with many libraries but no cars, of towns with many farmers but no policemen.
Flag: A white circle on a field of blue. This rarely used banner – it is not flown at public buildings on the island, and indeed is typically seen only at regional political summits – symbolizes the island of San Jesús in the blue Caribbean. White is sometimes taken to represent the purity of Christ, from whom the island, predominantly (92%) Catholic, takes its name. More prosaically, a second tradition holds that the newly independent slaves of 1814 had access only to white sailcloth and to indigo dyes with which it could be colored.
National Anthem: “God Save Our Blessed Isle.”
Capital: San Jesús
Population: 248,441 (2008)
Area: 1,027 km2
Independence: 1814
Economy: A uniquely dual economy, with a modest import and export trade of information technology and services coexisting with a low-tech, subsistence-style agriculture.
Per Capita Income: US$40,120
Languages: Dialectical French, English, Spanish
Literacy Rate: 98%
“It is fortunate that the world has forgotten San Jesús,” wrote Margaret Mead in 1954. “If we remembered, we would be unable to face the reality we have constructed.” It is unclear, however, why Mead (who never actually visited San Jesús) had such a negative impression of life there. By almost any standard, the largely ignored island nation has fared better than most of its neighbors in the Caribbean. A relatively small population, mostly descendants of the slaves who worked a French sugar plantation that operated from 1762 to 1814, lived for many decades in an environment of unparalleled natural abundance. “On San Jesús,” according to a florid 1923 article in National Geographic, “fruit and gourds rise as if invoked by the farmer’s neat fields, and ocean fish all but throw themselves into the waiting nets of the fishermen.”
There is a strong tradition of schooling and literacy on San Jesús, and since the 1950s the island’s most talented students have often found scholarships to top universities in the United States, Latin America, and Europe. The resulting pool of technical expertise has fostered the blossoming of an active software and information technology industry in a country that has virtually no “hard” industrial technology.
Indeed, San Jesúsians seem immune to many of the siren calls of modern life; in 2008, for instance, it remained the only independent country with no television broadcasting. Tourism is virtually nonexistent, but the rare visitor speaks of beautiful cities with many libraries but no cars, of towns with many farmers but no policemen.
Flag: A white circle on a field of blue. This rarely used banner – it is not flown at public buildings on the island, and indeed is typically seen only at regional political summits – symbolizes the island of San Jesús in the blue Caribbean. White is sometimes taken to represent the purity of Christ, from whom the island, predominantly (92%) Catholic, takes its name. More prosaically, a second tradition holds that the newly independent slaves of 1814 had access only to white sailcloth and to indigo dyes with which it could be colored.
National Anthem: “God Save Our Blessed Isle.”
Monday, December 6, 2010
New Horizons in Cultural Exploration
Readers of this space will know of my tendency to take on projects of self-improvement, particularly in the area of cultural literacy. My stalled march through the Bible, my ongoing conquest of The Reading List, my abortive but soon to be resurrected (albeit in altered form) reading of the plays of Shakespeare -- I think I can safely say that I know how to take on a project.
Now, it so happens that I had reached the ripe age of 42 without ever having seen an episode of Dr. Who. And yet I have long been aware that a great many people -- and more than that, a great many dorky people -- have taken pleasure and delight from this venerable British sci-fi serial. Add to this that I have been working my way through the popular "Spellman" detective books (verdict: not great, but amusing), the protagonist of which has an Dr. Who enthusiasm verging on the troubling. Finally, throw in that the college football season is winding down (and incidentally, may I say: How 'bout them Ducks?) and that I will need some sort of entertainment to quilt by. And the inevitable conclusion is this: I need to watch me some of that Dr. Who.
Me being me, of course, I intend to watch ALL of Dr. Who. In order.
Now, when I have informed friends and family of this decision, their question has invariably been "which one: new Dr. Who or old Dr. Who?" From this, I have concluded that my friends and family need their hearing checked. I said, "ALL Dr. Who," and "In Order." So I have begun at the very beginning, of course. So far, I have worked my way up to the Autumn of 1963. The Dr. Who whom ~I~ know so far is several iterations before what people are thinking of when they talk about the "old Dr. Who."
Now then: I have no intention of doing a running commentary on my Dr. Who watching on this here blog. I suspect there are many, many, many established sites within the internet community where you can get all the Dr. Who commentary you can handle. Indeed, you could probably spend the rest of your life seeking out other people's opinions on Dr. Who without running out of material. But I don't recommend it.
It has been fun, though, to work through the first year of the series. The "serials" -- a given story seems to last somewhere between two and eight half-hour episodes -- are of widely uneven quality. The special effects are somewhat less than spectacular to the 2010 eye, which gives some episodes something of a budget-of-shillings! quality to them. If you are into kitsch, there are plenty of giggles to be had, but I'm pretty willing to suspend disbelief and try to get the intended effect.
One last interesting thing. So far, I've watched the first, second, third, and fifth serials. Sloppy execution of a plan to watch them all in order? No. The fourth serial -- along, apparently, with quite a few others -- is not extant. Apparently the BBC had a policy into the 1970s of going through and throwing out the old stuff every year. Since VCR technology was in its infancy in the 1960s, and didn't really get rolling until the 1970s, all that remains of the fourth Dr. Who serial is some stills and a partial audio track. This is not exactly a loss on the level of the bombing of Coventry Cathedral, perhaps, but it is a little startling that something so relatively recent and of interest to so many could be irrecoverably lost.
Now, it so happens that I had reached the ripe age of 42 without ever having seen an episode of Dr. Who. And yet I have long been aware that a great many people -- and more than that, a great many dorky people -- have taken pleasure and delight from this venerable British sci-fi serial. Add to this that I have been working my way through the popular "Spellman" detective books (verdict: not great, but amusing), the protagonist of which has an Dr. Who enthusiasm verging on the troubling. Finally, throw in that the college football season is winding down (and incidentally, may I say: How 'bout them Ducks?) and that I will need some sort of entertainment to quilt by. And the inevitable conclusion is this: I need to watch me some of that Dr. Who.
Me being me, of course, I intend to watch ALL of Dr. Who. In order.
Now, when I have informed friends and family of this decision, their question has invariably been "which one: new Dr. Who or old Dr. Who?" From this, I have concluded that my friends and family need their hearing checked. I said, "ALL Dr. Who," and "In Order." So I have begun at the very beginning, of course. So far, I have worked my way up to the Autumn of 1963. The Dr. Who whom ~I~ know so far is several iterations before what people are thinking of when they talk about the "old Dr. Who."
Now then: I have no intention of doing a running commentary on my Dr. Who watching on this here blog. I suspect there are many, many, many established sites within the internet community where you can get all the Dr. Who commentary you can handle. Indeed, you could probably spend the rest of your life seeking out other people's opinions on Dr. Who without running out of material. But I don't recommend it.
It has been fun, though, to work through the first year of the series. The "serials" -- a given story seems to last somewhere between two and eight half-hour episodes -- are of widely uneven quality. The special effects are somewhat less than spectacular to the 2010 eye, which gives some episodes something of a budget-of-shillings! quality to them. If you are into kitsch, there are plenty of giggles to be had, but I'm pretty willing to suspend disbelief and try to get the intended effect.One last interesting thing. So far, I've watched the first, second, third, and fifth serials. Sloppy execution of a plan to watch them all in order? No. The fourth serial -- along, apparently, with quite a few others -- is not extant. Apparently the BBC had a policy into the 1970s of going through and throwing out the old stuff every year. Since VCR technology was in its infancy in the 1960s, and didn't really get rolling until the 1970s, all that remains of the fourth Dr. Who serial is some stills and a partial audio track. This is not exactly a loss on the level of the bombing of Coventry Cathedral, perhaps, but it is a little startling that something so relatively recent and of interest to so many could be irrecoverably lost.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Your Sunday Boring Postcard from Michael5000
Provenance: Gift of L&TM5K reader Thom Jones, 2010.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Reading List: "A Wrinkle in Time"
A Wrinkle in Time
Madeleine L'Engle, 1963.
I first read A Wrinkle in Time in third grade or thereabouts, and was vaguely conscious of being not as impressed as others seemed to be with this beloved classic of children’s science fiction. When the late Madeline L’Engle passed away shortly after the Reading List elections back in aught-seven, I decided to add Wrinkle to the List, expecting to be enchanted, or at least suitably impressed, this time around.
Alas, I am still a little underwhelmed. Whatever its virtues -- we’ll get to those in a minute -- A Wrinkle in Time is a real muddle. It involves a series of rather job-lot supernatural events -- some are fantastical, some are apparently mock-fantastical, some are science-fictionish -- that have only the thinnest logical connection among them. Villains with no clear motive must be fought within rules that are never really explained with the help of allies whose roles are unclear and whose tremendous powers, for reasons which seem rather arbitrary, have very specific limitations that force them to rely on a high school freshman and her little brother to save the universe.The primary characters bounce from event to event, having experiences that are only structured by the order the Ms. L’Engle wrote them in. That they by and large merely endure a series of trials, rather than actively engaging in a in a course of action, is a necessary side effect of a fictive universe with no particular rhyme or reason to it.
To be sure, Wrinkle adheres to the ground rules of children’s fiction. The characters succeed through perseverance and courage, their love of family and friends is affirmed as a principle human value, and it is stressed that it is OK to be and feel different than your peers. The book, published in 1963, is like much literature of that period in making a memorable assault on suburban conformity and the corporate mentality. Wrinkle is also lovable for its suggestion that it might be OK, or even kind of cool, to be smart and know things.
Most of my friends on the “GoodReads” online bookworm site rate A Wrinkle in Time very highly. One notes it as one of the books that opened up the possibility of realities other than the mundane one that we all had to wait through as children. From its reputation, it’s clear that Wrinkle played a similar role in the lives of a great many other of us bookish dreams. That’s a wonderful thing, and I can salute it, even while suggesting that this is not really a book that holds up well to an adult reading.
NEXT UP: Whiling away a long road trip with Ye Canterbury Tales!
ON DECK: Dreading a repeat of The Brothers Karamazov experience with Crime and Punishment!
I first read A Wrinkle in Time in third grade or thereabouts, and was vaguely conscious of being not as impressed as others seemed to be with this beloved classic of children’s science fiction. When the late Madeline L’Engle passed away shortly after the Reading List elections back in aught-seven, I decided to add Wrinkle to the List, expecting to be enchanted, or at least suitably impressed, this time around.
Alas, I am still a little underwhelmed. Whatever its virtues -- we’ll get to those in a minute -- A Wrinkle in Time is a real muddle. It involves a series of rather job-lot supernatural events -- some are fantastical, some are apparently mock-fantastical, some are science-fictionish -- that have only the thinnest logical connection among them. Villains with no clear motive must be fought within rules that are never really explained with the help of allies whose roles are unclear and whose tremendous powers, for reasons which seem rather arbitrary, have very specific limitations that force them to rely on a high school freshman and her little brother to save the universe.The primary characters bounce from event to event, having experiences that are only structured by the order the Ms. L’Engle wrote them in. That they by and large merely endure a series of trials, rather than actively engaging in a in a course of action, is a necessary side effect of a fictive universe with no particular rhyme or reason to it.
To be sure, Wrinkle adheres to the ground rules of children’s fiction. The characters succeed through perseverance and courage, their love of family and friends is affirmed as a principle human value, and it is stressed that it is OK to be and feel different than your peers. The book, published in 1963, is like much literature of that period in making a memorable assault on suburban conformity and the corporate mentality. Wrinkle is also lovable for its suggestion that it might be OK, or even kind of cool, to be smart and know things.
Most of my friends on the “GoodReads” online bookworm site rate A Wrinkle in Time very highly. One notes it as one of the books that opened up the possibility of realities other than the mundane one that we all had to wait through as children. From its reputation, it’s clear that Wrinkle played a similar role in the lives of a great many other of us bookish dreams. That’s a wonderful thing, and I can salute it, even while suggesting that this is not really a book that holds up well to an adult reading.
NEXT UP: Whiling away a long road trip with Ye Canterbury Tales!
ON DECK: Dreading a repeat of The Brothers Karamazov experience with Crime and Punishment!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The Reading List: What Every American Should Know About the Rest of the World
What Every American Should Know About the Rest of the World
Melissa L. Rossi, 2003
For the second time, we have run into a book on The Reading List that I have only briefly skimmed. This has nothing to do with its quality; it's just a matter of its format and age.
In format, it's basically an almanac. Rossi tours the world, explaining in very readable fashion the current crises besetting each region and the stories of how they came to be this way. The book is organized in an unusual order, from what Rossi sees as the most pressing crisis (Iraq) through to less immediate concerns, so there's quite a bit of regional skipping around. This is no biggy, though, since almanacs aren't really meant to be read cover to cover -- which is one of the reason I am taking a pass on reading What Every American cover to cover.
Too, a book of this type has a very short shelf life. Three years old when it was nominated for The Reading List, it was already a bit long in the tooth; another three and a half years later, it is quite out of date. The historical background information remains valid and relevant, of course, but the crises have moved on. Saddam Hussein is no longer in hiding; there is no longer a jury out on whether or not he'll turn out to have had an arsenal of, what did we call them? WMDs? Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is pretty important to a discussion of Iran these days, but he was still two years from the Presidency when Rossi went to press. Indeed, we've moved on far enough that Rossi's predictions have had time to fail, as predictions tend to do. North Korea has not collapsed! But then, if you had told me in 1998 that North Korea would still have been going strong in 2003, I would have bet against you.
So, we move on.
Next on the Reading List: A Wrinkle in Time! On Deck: Ye Cantebury Tales!
Melissa L. Rossi, 2003
For the second time, we have run into a book on The Reading List that I have only briefly skimmed. This has nothing to do with its quality; it's just a matter of its format and age.
In format, it's basically an almanac. Rossi tours the world, explaining in very readable fashion the current crises besetting each region and the stories of how they came to be this way. The book is organized in an unusual order, from what Rossi sees as the most pressing crisis (Iraq) through to less immediate concerns, so there's quite a bit of regional skipping around. This is no biggy, though, since almanacs aren't really meant to be read cover to cover -- which is one of the reason I am taking a pass on reading What Every American cover to cover.
Too, a book of this type has a very short shelf life. Three years old when it was nominated for The Reading List, it was already a bit long in the tooth; another three and a half years later, it is quite out of date. The historical background information remains valid and relevant, of course, but the crises have moved on. Saddam Hussein is no longer in hiding; there is no longer a jury out on whether or not he'll turn out to have had an arsenal of, what did we call them? WMDs? Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is pretty important to a discussion of Iran these days, but he was still two years from the Presidency when Rossi went to press. Indeed, we've moved on far enough that Rossi's predictions have had time to fail, as predictions tend to do. North Korea has not collapsed! But then, if you had told me in 1998 that North Korea would still have been going strong in 2003, I would have bet against you.
So, we move on.
Next on the Reading List: A Wrinkle in Time! On Deck: Ye Cantebury Tales!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
