6.26.2023 – juxtaposition

juxtaposition
ancient superstition
and modern setting

75, year ago, The Lottery by Shirly Jackson was printed in the New Yorker magazine and ever since, people have wondered what it meant.

In an exchange of letter’s between the author and the magazine, Ms. Jackson states that:

I am sorry to have to tell you that I have almost no information regarding Mr. Ross’s reaction to my story, “The Lottery.” I never met Mr. Ross, and all my dealings over the story were with Gus Lobrano;

I do know that when Gus called me to say that they were buying the story he asked — “for our own information” — if I cared to take any stand on the meaning of the story.

I was interested in what I naturally regarded as his only important remark—that they were buying the story — and while I was still fumbling for some happy phrase he asked if I thought the story meant that superstition was ignorant;

if the story might be called an allegory which made its point by an ironic juxtaposition of ancient superstition and modern setting.

I said yes, indeed, that would be fine, and he said, “Good; that’s what Mr. Ross thought it meant.” 

Yes.

Indeed.

That would be fine.

The story was also summed in of all places (I was going to say oddly enough but to many things turn up here) in an episode of the Simpsons where the TV News announcer says the Lottery is “… a chilling tale of conformity gone mad.”

Yes.

Indeed.

That also would be fine.

Somehow, could it be, that The Lottery, as a chilling tale of conformity gone mad, and an allegory which made its point by an ironic juxtaposition of ancient superstition and modern setting is the key to Trump?

What does it mean?

Famously, Harold Ross, the editor of the New Yorker said, “I’ll never print another story I don’t understand.“

6.25.2023 – and his laughter was

and his laughter was
enough to put a smile on
anybody’s face

I like to visit small town papers from time to time, just to see who died and what live folks said about those newly dead folks in their obituary.

In the Houghton Michigan Mining Gazette, I came across that Ronald “Ron-Cat” Koski passed away unexpectedly at Aspirus Keweenaw Hospital on April 17, 2023.

According to Ron’s obit:

Ron absolutely loved the outdoors and spent 10 years working on Isle Royale.

Where he enjoyed kayaking, fishing and boating in his free time.

Back on the main land, he enjoyed four wheeling, snowmobiling, camping, listening to music and watching hockey.

Ron had a wonderful sense of humor.

He was always making jokes and quippy comments.

His laughter was enough to put a smile on anybody’s face.

His laughter was enough to put a smile on anybody’s face.

Not a bad bunch of words to go out on.

Don’t even need to explain that as something unique to the UP of Michigan.

It’s just hard to find today … almost anywhere in the country.

6.24.2023 – sorrow gone with life’s

sorrow gone with life’s
fitful breath, rest for thy brow
bears the seal of death

April 27, Eighteen Sixty-Five

The flight, pursuit, and remorse of Lincoln’s assassin are vividly portrayed by a teenage Emma Lazarus in this poem.

She chose for her title the date of John Wilkes Booth’s capture and death, in error giving it a day later than it actually occurred.

This poem first appeared in 1867, in “Poems and Translations by Emma Lazarus, Written Between the Ages of Fourteen and Seventeen.”

Because of the ambiguous title, this piece has gone unnoticed by most Lincoln scholars.

April 27, Eighteen Sixty-Five

“Oh, where can I lay my aching head?”
The weary-worn fugitive sadly said.
“I have wandered in all the sleepless night,
And I saw my pursuers distant light
As it glared o’er the river’s waves of blue,
And flashed forth again in each drop of dew–
I’ve wandered all night in this deadly air,
Till, sick’ning, I drop with pain and despair.”

Go forth! Thou shalt have here no rest again,
For thy brow is marked with the brand of Cain.

“I am weary and faint and ill,” said he,
“And the stars look down so mercilessly!
Do you mock me with your glittering ray,
And seek, like the garish sun, to betray?
O, forbear, cruel stars, so bright and high;
Ye are happy and pure in God’s own sky.
O, where can I lay me down to sleep,
To rest and to slumber, to pray and weep?”

Go forth! Thou shalt have here no rest again,
For thy brow is marked with the brand of Cain.

“To sleep! What is sleep now but haunting dreams?
Chased off, everytime by the flashing gleam
Of the light o’er the stream of yonder town,
Where all are searching and hunting me down!
O, the wearisome pain, the dread suspense,
And the horror each instant more intense!
I yearn for the rest from my pain and for sleep–
Bright stars, do ye mock, or quivering, weep?”

Go forth! Thou shalt have here no rest again,
For thy brow is marked with the brand of Cain.

On the marsh’s grass, without pillow or bed,
Fell the rain and dew on his fated head;
While the will-o’-the-wisp with its changeful light,
Led him on o’er the swamp in the darksome night;
And all Nature’s voices cried out again,
To the weary fugitive in his pain–

Go forth! Thou shalt have here no rest again,
For thy brow is marked with the brand of Cain.

The pursuers are near! O, bitter strife!
Youth, more strong than despair still clings to life.
More near and more near! They find him at last;
One desperate struggle, and all is past–
One desperate struggle, mid smoke and flame,
For life without joy, and darkness and shame.
A prayer ascends to high Heaven’s gate
For his soul, O God, be it not too late!
A ball cleaves the air…He is lying there,
Pale, stiff and cold in the fresh morning air;
And the flames’ hot breath is all stifled now,
And the breezes caress his marble brow.

All sorrow has gone with a life’s fitful breath.
Rest at last! For thy brow bears the seal of death.

This poem is part of a collection Abraham Lincoln: The Trhttp://www.jewish-history.com/civilwar/lazarus.htmlibute of the Synagogue compiled by Emanuel Hertz, Bloch Publishing, 1927, p. 184.

Emma Lazarus (July 22, 1849 – November 19, 1887) was an American author of poetry, prose, and translations, as well as an activist for Jewish and Georgist causes. She is remembered for writing the sonnet “The New Colossus”, which was inspired by the Statue of Liberty, in 1883.

6.23.2024 – glorification

glorification
of bacon, a meat, sends the
wrong message to fans

I live near Savannah, Georgia.

The home of the Savannah Bananas.

A minor league baseball that used to play in a league with the Tri City Chili Peppers and the Lexington County Blowfish and the Macon Bacon.

But the Macon Bacon are under attack.

For their name and the ‘glorification of a processed meat.

According to the article, Doctors urge ‘Macon Bacon’ baseball team change its name: ‘You wouldn’t have Team Asbestos’ by Victoria Bekiempis in the Guardian:

“Macon Bacon’s glorification of bacon, a processed meat that raises the risk of colorectal cancer and other diseases, sends the wrong message to fans,” the committee nutrition leader Anna Herby reportedly wrote to team president Brandon Raphael. “I urge you to update the team’s name to Macon Facon Bacon and promote plant-based bacon alternatives, such as Facon Bacon or Mushroom Bacon, that will help your fans stay healthy. As for Kevin, Macon Bacon’s mascot, he can reveal that he is actually plant-based bacon.”

Bacon, black coffee and unfiltered cigarettes had as much to do with the building of this country as did the writings of Thomas Jefferson.

But now it is under attack.

Some folks with just too much time on their hands.

6.22.2023 – it’s like reading an

it’s like reading an
aggressively abridged book
soulless messy gist

Adapted from the line, “It’s like reading an aggressively abridged novel in which every adjective has been deleted and blackberry jam smudged across parts of every other page. You get the gist, but in a soulless, messy fashion.”

This line appeared in Frank Bruni’s For the Love of Sentences section of Mr. Bruni’s Opinion Piece, Chris Christie Is Doing Something Very, Very Important in the New York Times on June 21, 2023.

According to his writer blurb in the NYT, Mr. Bruni is a professor of journalism and public policy at Duke University, the author of the book “The Beauty of Dusk” and a contributing Opinion writer. He writes a weekly email newsletter.

I liked this a lot more before I got to the Duke part.

Like almost every house I have been in growing up, my house was filled with the Reader’s Digest Condensed books.

They looked nice on the shelf.

I even opened them up on occasion and read some of the books.

As I kid I understood condensed orange juice.

Though to this DAY, I am mystified that for my ENTIRE life, orange juice and lemonade comes in the same size can but orange juice needs three cans of water while lemonade needs 4 and 1/3 cans of water.

First I wondered why lemonade made so much more juice.

Then I wondered what was wrong with the lemonade.

Then, over the years, I wondered why no scientist ever came up with a condensed version of lemonade that also needed three cans of water.

I new of condensed milk.

How were books condensed?

And once condensed, how were these Reader’s Digest volumes printed and distributed.

And WHY were so many made.

In the age of ZOOM and remote TV News interviews nothing makes me discount any expert’s expertise faster than a backdrop of a book case … filled with Reader’s Digest condensed books.

It might not have happened but in my mind there is a story about HL Mencken and Reader’s Digest.

According to the story, Mr. Mencken was told about the plan to take the best parts of all the stories in newspapers and magazines and republished these ‘best parts’ or ‘digested parts’ in a single magazine.

Mr. Mencken is reported to have said something along the lines of, “No one ever went broke underestimating the American intellect.”

As I watch TV today and the commercials roll by for dog insurance and dog DNA and wonder drugs I cannot pronounce for ailments I have never heard of, I can vouch for the statement’s accuracy if not is provenance.

So much of life today seems to be aggressively abridged.

It is has been rendered soulless and messy but you get the gist.