the discourse of virtue, cont'd

An advertisement, made by one William Dodge, appearing in the supplement to the Dec. 20, 1773 issue of the Boston Gazette:

Whereas Elizabeth DODGE the wife of me the Subscriber has refused to live with me; and I having paid for her Board as long as I am able, consistent with Reason or my Interest; — I do hereby forbid all Persons from Entertaining, Harboring, or Trusting the said Elizabeth on my Accompt; and I hereby declare I will pay no Debt she shall contract from the Date hereof.

the discourse of virtue

Regarding the proper installation and care of the mulberry tree — if you consider yourself a "public-spirited" citizen, you'll plant one immediately after reading this. For those looking to go the extra mile in expressing their republican virtue: you'll encourage your wives to drop whatever it is they do all day in favor of raising silkworms. From the Pennsylvania Gazette, reprinted in the Boston News-Letter of March 8, 1770 (spelling preserved, line breaks mine):

Within two Years last past, several Persons have raised Silk Worms within this and the neighbouring Provinces, and from their Success, we have great Hopes that it may be made a staple Commodity with us, for the Climate has agreed remarkably well with the Worm hitherto; our Summers are long enough to afford two Crops; the native Mulberry of this Country, is as good as any other to feed the Worm; the Silk which has been raised here, is of the best Quality; the Management of the Worm no ways difficult, and a Woman can earn more at raising Silk, than any other Business in the same Time.

But unless we have Mulberry Trees for to feed the Worms, the Culture of Silk cannot be carried on to any great Extent; and as many People might be willing to promote it by encreasing the Quantity of Mulberry Trees, provided they thought of it in a suitable Season; therefore this is to advertise all such, that the most favourable Time to propagate them is now approaching; and it is to be hoped, that every public spirited Person will use their Endeavours for that Purpose; the Expence of which will be small, the Trouble and Risque but little, and the Advantages many, although they should not be used for the Purpose of raising Silk; for the Mulberry is very good to feed and fatten Poultry, and the Wood, for many Uses, is equal to any that grows, especially for Ship-building, and it is said to be as durable as red Cedar, in Posts, &c. when full grown. 

2017: mixed media

I can't believe the last thing I posted on this blog was about Ezra Koenig! (Maybe some of you have forgotten who he is, given that he hardly tweets at all anymore. I don't blame you.)

Last year, I said I'd do away with reading challenges, and so I have. I've also done away with Goodreads ratings, for the most part: there's something absurd, isn't there, in asking the present-day reading population to rate Common Sense — for instance — on a scale of one to five. (It's currently at 3.97, for those wondering. One one-star review by a "Parentheses Enthusiast" remarks that the pamphlet is "DRY. DRIER THAN AN ANCIENT RAISIN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ATACAMA DESERT.") But here are five books I read in the past year that I would have rated four or five stars, I suppose, and that you might feel similarly about:

5. THE SHEPHERD'S LIFE (James Rebanks)
One of the first things I saw when I arrived in England last May, apart from the inside of the Manchester airport, was a group of sheep grazing on a highway median. That set the tone for the next few months, during which I developed a surprising affinity for sheep of all stripes; I picked this book up in the same airport on my way home. Rebanks writes of his childhood (and adulthood) spent as a shepherd in the Lake District, so there are no highway medians here, but it's no less interesting for it. The Shepherd's Life is at once memoir and cultural history (its subtitle, in some editions, is A People's History of the Lake District). It is better as the latter than as the former, although Rebanks's account of his journey from his sheep to Oxford to London and (finally) back to his sheep is necessary — it shows us that he's the best-placed person to do what he does in this book, which is to advance a critique of capitalist society from the point of view of a pre-industrial profession. I don't know if that's what Rebanks intended, exactly, but I do think that's what makes this book so valuable.

#4 through #1, under the cut.

I think a lot about GRIT, and even more about the dollar number of Angela Duckworth's fee every time she is invited to tell some of the highest-paid people in the country how they can become even more highly-paid; the (unintended, I think, I hope) implication is that they've gotten where they are because of something inside them. they have grit, and others don't.

do you think we've lost something by turning psychology into a numbers game? "Luria had the right idea," I remember texting my mother, soon after (perhaps during, in which case: she scolded me for texting during class) the guest lecture during which I got this impression; during which Angela Duckworth showed us (with the best of intentions) that academic research, too, can get you to Wall Street. I don't really take issue with Duckworth herself. she acknowledges the many limitations of grit, especially as "measured" by a questionnaire; she has discussed her issues with the very idea of "measurement," re: what ought and ought not to be "measurable." opening a lecture to an Intro to Psych class with a reference to the career path that (one could be forgiven for assuming) so many in the ultra-high-capacity auditorium might aspire to — maybe it was an attempt to meet students where they were at. the problem lies with those who interpret concepts like grit for their own benefit, which is surely how Duckworth ended up talking to a bunch of investment bankers in the first place.

all this is to say that I finished The Mismeasure of Man recently and I'm growing more and more suspicious of numbers. they'll provide an almost transcendental backing for anything! 

the age of the blog

A brief check-in, taking the form of a rather belated PSA: notable Internet user and Vampire Weekend frontman Ezra Koenig, 32, has taken down the final post on his erstwhile blog "Internet Vibes"—yes, the post entitled "I HATE BLOGGING," after which we never heard from Mr. Koenig again.

30 July 2016

(It's a well-known post, previously referenced on this very blog.)

You see the lone difference between the two snapshots, barring their dimensions. "New Age Family Vacation Alert" simply preceded "I HATE BLOGGING" chronologically; it's not new material. (When are we getting that from Vampire Weekend, by the way?) It seems that "I HATE BLOGGING" (the post) has disappeared from the blog. It's not much of a reach to thus presume that "I HATE BLOGGING" (the sentiment) has disappeared from Mr. Koenig's heart.

5 October 2016

Perhaps Mr. Koenig sensed the winds of change before the rest of us and used that simple "delete post" operation to tell us—us being his fans, who all tend to skim the headlines every morning, by choice or not—this. The age of the press is, sadly, over. The age of the blog (or the one-man newspaper, take your pick) has begun anew. Stay tuned.

revisiting 'buddy holly'

In times* like these—times in which we can't help but ask "what's with these homies?" every time we're confronted with the day's headlines—it would perhaps behoove us to reconsider some of the choices we've made. Not in ride-sharing apps, and definitely not in business-to-business lumber; simply in music. Specifically, I mean the choice you probably** made today to listen to any song that's not Weezer's 1994 single "BUDDY HOLLY."

*This is timely, I promise. Mary Tyler Moore (yes, she who you are when I look just like Buddy Holly) died two weeks ago. Rest in peace.

**I don't mean to paint with a broad brush; some of you are making the right choices already. I'm literally listening to "Buddy Holly" by Weezer right now, a friend shouted over her shoulder, one earbud in and one earbud out, as she power-walked past me this Monday.

2016: six books you'll like and several you might

[An aside: 2017, for me, is the year I do away with reading challenges -- because a) certain things took precedence, rightly, over my book-a-week goal this year and will continue to do so in coming years, b) if I'm ever going to finish The Making of the Atomic Bomb once and for all, I'll have to spend a solid summer on it, and c) in times like these -- not the times that try men's souls, but the ones leading up to them, if we're lucky -- I'd like to reread the complete works of Laura Ingalls Wilder.]

6. ON WOMEN AND REVOLUTION (Crystal Eastman) if you can find it.
Crystal Eastman (1881-1928; prolific writer, co-founder of the ACLU) was an extraordinary woman, but the titular and is an extraordinarily misleading and. I picked up this long out-of-print book (here!) in the hope that each essay inside addressed women and revolution together, but On Women and Revolution is in fact divided into two parts: Crystal Eastman on Women and (surprise) Crystal Eastman on Revolution. The former section is, I think, of more interest to the casual feminist than the latter is to the casual leftist; Eastman's writings on feminism are at once mordant (Winston Churchill is "full of beans" to her) and moving, and it's worth noting just how many of her concerns remain our concerns -- a full century later.

(Almost) as before: #5 through #1 + extras, under the cut.