Charlie.

(Obligatory y'unnerstan'.)

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A sampling of covers over the years: Worth understanding some of the controversy: Slate: Charlie Hebdo’s Most Controversial Religious Covers - Explained. Naturally enough there is a huge outpouring of cartoon reaction following the events of the 7th of January a sampling of which follows:         iPolitics: The Worlds Cartoonists Fight Back;         Democratic Underground: Je Suis Charlie;                         Violence will not silence them;                         The Pen Will Survive; and,                         Dishonoring Your God. What about the thousands of people killed in Nigeria early in January? It's a reasonable question. See: I am Charlie, but I am Baga too: On Nigeria’s forgotten massacre, and Why did the world ignore Boko Haram's Baga attacks?, and What made the Paris attack more newsworthy than Boko Haram's assault on Baga? . Not to mention the Jews killed in Paris on the 9th. Where do they fit in? One could also ask about the approximately 8 billion souls (that would be all of us) threatened by and in jeopardy (extreme jeopardy that is, possibly to extinction) because of the human-engineered environmental catastrophe. A few concluding remarks: from Gwynne Dyer (1), Gwynne Dyer (2), and Chris Hedges. Concluding but not quite final ... one wonders how the Danes manage to get it so consistently right (beginning - in my limited understanding of their history - when they saved their Jews from Hitler), see: For Jihadists, Denmark Tries Rehabilitation.

After the fair when we were living on the stage at Simon Charlie's there was a sheep, a young ram, who had been part of the petting zoo and was now just running around eating grass. We called him Charlie (with no disrespect nor even connection to Simon's name, it might have related to Cliff Robertson's movie 'Charly' - can't remember). But at times, when someone bent down with his or her back to Charlie he would butt. The kids got scared. One day Charlie was taken away in a pickup truck never to be seen again. I remember now. It was Frank who named him. Frank was a tall and very handsome young man who built a small platform in a tree to sleep on - to escape endless pursuit by young nubiles. (He would catch only the ones he fancied.) He was also the kind of fellow who did what was asked of him and took care of the petting zoo leftovers. There was a goose too. I caught our dog, Kuma, chasing the goose one day and ran him down in the field - no beating, finding himself caught by a two-legged human on open ground was enough to leave him thoughtful. Eventually though the temptation was too much and he killed the goose. We took it away from him and cooked it. So tough as to be almost uneatable but after a few days simmering the stew was delicious.

Oh man! That's funny. I used the phrase 'soi distant' in the last post. It has been in my repertoire since early early days when I read ee cummings 'Six Nonlectures' in highschool. So I used it, and I happen to have an OED on my desktop so I wondered if it might be in there, and it's not, but 'soi-disant' (without the 't') IS in there. I'll have to get the book now and see if I have been mistaken all these years. There was an occasion years ago when I said, "Music to soothe a savage beast," and two voices at the dinner table immediately replied "Breast!"; and when I said "Shakespeare," they said "Congreve!" And I doubt you will believe me gentle reader when I tell you how delighted I was at this correction, truly delighted.

A year or so ago I sent my kids copies of Richard Brautigan's 'Watermelon Sugar'. As far as I know none of 'em read it, in any event I have had no response of any kind. I keep a copy on-line. Here's what I think is a relevant bit in the context of Charlie: "I'll show you," inBOIL said. He pulled the blade out. It looked sharp. "This is iDEATH," he said, and took the knife and cut off his thumb and dropped it into a tray filled with trout just barely hatched. The blood started running down his hand and dripping on the floor. The world is filled with trout just barely hatched, none of whom know very much (including myself). Whenever I think of trout now I remember the Swede who demonstrated the effects of less than 5ppb (thats parts per BILLION!) plastic shit on trout sexuality. Circulation is up. Easy to be cynical. Chris Hedges is saying no more than W.H. Auden: "What all schoolchildren learn: those to whom evil is done do evil in return," who said it more than seventy years ago - not that it was original then. They don't call it the Golden Rule for nothing - it lasts. Joe Sacco's editorial appears near the beginning of this post, you probably skipped it, fair enough, but have a look now (click on the frame at the left). Hedges calls him 'the world's greatest' or something in that silly book ... a close and thoughtful reading of this editorial will reveal certain ... flaws, but the process is proper - just that it seems like he stops before he's really thought it through. The thing about these guys is not that they get it right, they don't - it's that they aren't afraid to get it wrong and in so expressing themselves they present an opportunity to see a bigger picture. Chris Hedges (f'rinstance) doesn't think Charlie Hebdo is funny; well, neither does the Pope. :-) But sure, OK for so many of the rest of you to keep the blinkers on, don't talk about hunger strikes and self-immolation, don't talk about destruction of property compared with violence against people - shut yer fricken' minds and assume the default position. Stay 'on track' (so the train can come along and run you over). Things are somewhat more forthright in Brasil: Laerte gets it: Rules ... Limits ... Rules ... Limits ... Rules.    R ...    Stay behind the yellow line. The rule is stay behind the yellow line.    But this line is blue.         So ... a-and Clara Gomes gets it too: The world is a dangerous place, chaotic, unpredictable, and violent.                             Because of this I will live inside myself forever! It's a tight fit but at least it has the Internet.

 
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It don't take much.

A cheap drunk. A pushover.

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Don't complain about life! Don't complain about life! This book is unfaithful to the latest moments of history. This CD is a boring imitation of real rock. You don't have to justify everything you are going to throw away with a criticism. I'm a super-good person and ... Hey, any spare change?    I don't give money to bums! Get a job! Define 'good'.   I hear that Al Gore was in Lima for COP 20 and I want to hear what he had to say. I used to know how to grab those UN videos - I seem to have forgot but I eventually find a copy posted on YouTube by Julio Ruiz and since there is an embedded email address in it I thank him for taking the time to post it. He responds! Turns out he has a blog with a number of interesting clips from the event. I'm very critical of the UNFCCC generally and severally - to the point of boorish rudeness and well beyond - but not without having read and listened to them. In the process Julio finds this blog and makes some complimentary remarks, praises it. Man! That feels good! And here we are. Oh sure, maybe it's just a flash in the pan and the conversation will languish for some reason I will never know, but in the meantime there's a brief respite at least. Blue-sky-wise it's possible to visualize a 'nuclear fission' model of human psychological flourishing, maybe even a quantum theory if some minimum level of interest or concern can be identified with measurable units. Fraught with value judgements of course - tempting to define 'positive interaction' and so forth; 'flourishing' itself is not quite a neutral term though few would mistake it. Might be interesting to analyse so-called social 'atomization' in this context: Does it promote or inhibit the reaction?

A friend of mine who is in a position to know (or was until he retired) tells me that near-death statements are problematic, not dependable - possibly governed by the psychedelic effects of a failing liver. Not for nothing the Brazilian expression 'desopilar o fígado' (cleanse the liver) for 'cheer up' then eh?

Ademir Paixão's Dilma is deliciously ambiguous. What could she be doing? Blocking her ears so she won't hear? Flossing her ear canal? (To clean out the oil?) Applying a tourniquet? Putting on a mask? 'These people' have all got a serious hitch in their gitalong. Maybe what they need is a ... Double Date (!!!): Couple'a cool rich and powerful dudes with a couple'a hot Brazilian chicks (er ... ). Given the status of 'these people' we'll need a chaperone (from French chaperon 'hood' so possibly related to Brazilian camisinha). Who better than Jacob Zuma? (Although Izabella Teixeira certainly fills the bill as a stereotypical duenna.) I'll leave it to you to figgure out where Kátia Abreu and her stance towards the Código Florestal fits as Minister of Agriculture and what Dilma Rousseff means by appointing her. If I could have found a photograph of them together with Izabella Teixeira the Environment Minister it might begin to look like casting for the opening scene of Macbeth. What happens to people? She was tortured apparently, as a young woman in the 70s. What does that do to you I wonder? Grounds for compassion and easy enough for that to bleed over into a general (but unjustified and unwise) approbation. What Stephen Harper and Tony Abbott and Dilma Rousseff and Kátia Abreu and Izabella Teixeira (and their legion of colleagues around the world) are setting up for is hell on earth. They should be doing more than just cleaning their livers. Dig it! A different kind of double date portrayed by Daniel Espinosa in his film 'Easy Money': Three meditations, reflections, ruminations ... which seem to me to be central to the global environmental catastrophe as it unfolds:

Burning Bush: 1968 (August) Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia;   1968 (September) Ryszard Siwiec (7 March 1909 — 12 September 1968) in Poland, aged 59; an accountant with a degree in philosophy, active in the Polish resistance movement, with five children - so ... not a flake;   1969 (January) Jan Palach (11 August 1948 – 19 January 1969) in Wenceslas Square on January 16th, a student, aged 20;   1969 (February) Jan Zajíc (July 3, 1950 – February 25, 1969), a student (railroad engineering), aged 18;   1969 (April) Evžen Plocek (29 October 1929 – 9 April 1969) up-through-the-ranks manufacturing manager and a Communist party member, aged 39;   1985 Mikhail Gorbachev, Glasnost (openness), & Perestroika (restructuring);;   1989 Velvet Revolution, note that this is 20 years later - so even multiple self-immolations cannot be called an effective tactic;   1989-1993 & 1993–2003 Václav Havel;   2003-2013 Václav Klaus. Interesting that he outs himself in 2009 (Copenhagen year) as a climate change denier. :-) ;   1991 documentary film by Polish director Maciej Drygas 'Usłyszcie mój krzyk' / 'Hear My Cry' about Ryszard Siwiec;   2013 Burning Bush a three-part HBO mini-series by Polish director Agnieszka Holland, in Polish;   I've tried to get the Buddhists I know talking about the 'self-immolations' in Tibet (to no avail); and I've tried to get the Toronto climate fasting aficionados to talk about the notion of an actual hunger 'strike' (also to no avail). Mind you this is 'talk about' I'm talking about, discuss, exchange thoughts and ideas. What's so unspeakable? What shibboleth have I tripped over? But ... ... not a (fricken') word! This business of self-immolation must be solitary on several levels. Be that as it may, Theresa Spence's hunger strike on Victoria Island, even though it's object was a share in a diamond mine, showed the power of dramatic personal sacrifice and (it seems to me that) self-immolation falls onto that scale and so should be thought about, considered, not for immediate action or planning purposes but just to see where it fits into the scheme of things.

Samuel Scheffler 'Death and the Afterlife': The library does not have a copy and I am too demoralized to think about asking them to get one. Luckily there is a pirate .pdf floating around so I get to read it. (It was on BookZZ but things come and go over there. If you ask me I will send you a copy by email.) I fall for these philosophers so easily - such a pushover. It was the same with Stephen Gardiner and 'A Perfect Moral Storm' a few years ago. I get right into it, catalogue his (many) typos and send them to him by email for which he thanks me (and the changes are incorporated into the paperback version) but the guy will simply not answer my question about Cuba. How hard could it be to say even just, "Fuck off you know-nothing asshole!"? It would be very easy to tip into "These fuckin' soi-distant careerist American philosophers!" Similar responses from Tim Jackson & Peter Victor & Peter Sale though - so I guess it's nothing to do with either philosophers or America per se. 'Death and the Afterlife' turns out to be another of those 'how-many-angels-can-dance-on-the-head-of-a-pin' exercises conducted under the 'rational' auspices of an avuncular self-effacing and very likeable fellow - he graciously spreads the glory to selected colleagues f'rinstance. I'm glad to be poor and forced to find the pirate version - 200 pages for 40 bucks to buy it, and then I might have felt ... even more like a fool. Nonetheless and all that said - some light is shed upon the poignant quandary of why no one is acting in the face of an overwhelming and quite likely terminal environmental catastrophe (although it is only addressed obliquely). A-and it's just 200 pages, a short read even for washed up old farts with flagging attention-spans. •   provenance: from Adbusters who have obviously read a review but have no idea what the book is about (and are hard pressed to convey even that much gramatically);   •   published by: Oxford University Press / OUP USA and in the OUP blog;   •   a good review: After the Meteor Strike, Amia Srinivasan (pdf) (I mean the review is good), appeared in the LRB where it is securely locked up - the link is to the author's copy;   •   NPR: A Philosopher's 'Afterlife': We May Die, But Others Live On, with a link to an audio interview with the author;   •   YouTube: interview with Harry Kreisler at University of California Television (UCTV) in 2012;   •   bio & contact: blurb at NYU;   •   In the NYT (himself): The Importance of the Afterlife. Seriously.;   [What hooked me this time (incidentally) is that the situation (at least) - regarding humanity's extinction ('regarding' as a verb) - has personal relevance. Not in terms of regret for the world my children (who have pretty well turned their backs on me) and grandchildren (whom I hardly know) will inherit - sorry to say it but there it is. And no, I don't fear death, just the pain I expect to preceed it. This is no more than bog standard human nature which has no cousciousness nor real knowledge of death itself and cannot possibly have any.]

Michael Harris 'The End of Absence': Some related (I think, not having seen Harris' book yet) material from Nicholas Carr: his essay in The Atlantic in 2008; and his 2011 book 'The Shallows' (mentioned here previously). One hums a few bars of Bob: "... and his mind has been mismanaged with great skill." •   provenance: from Tim Lott in The Guardian.   •   at the Toronto Public Library with quite a long waiting list;   •   the author's blog: The End of Absence; and an Interview in the New York Times; and the publisher's blurb from Penguin - just $26.95US;   It's all doubly & triply irritating, frustrating, because as a tool email has such wonderful possibilities. I am such a fool as can still imagine he sees advantages :-) But consider addiction to anodyne, the erosion of memory, takeover by the rentier/rentières ... Look up eutrapely (for the second or third time) and have a look at Ephesians 5:4 in the KJV where one sense of eutrapely is stressed. There's a lot more to be said no doubt - but the central phenomenon, which I have seen in myself and others close to me, is backfilling the genuine authentic interest & concern of real people (now excavated & absent) with the seemingly omnipresent & ever ready Kómputtor. There is a phenomenon in 'Dune' (was it?) where those addicted to artificial cerebral stimulation starve, to death. (No, not in 'Dune' maybe it's in 'Dhalgren' ...) And so ... remembering again my old friend Vincent Bernardus Tieleman Twight (getting misty and sentimental here) who managed to stay about completely away from computers in any form (but who did type a short email to me three or four months before he died - typed it mind you, someone else sent it :-). He said ... ... Oh fuck! It's gone! I've lost the damned email! Nevermind. It was just a few words, one sentence, well thought out and through and through, I remember that much. Oh! You see how this useless technology lets you down eh?! Fuck I miss 'im!

Presentation on the new times: Televisions, telephones, computers.     With so much information it's never been so easy ... ... to be misinformed about this brief and finite existence.

 
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Aha! It ain't necessarily cyclical!

It's a cook book!                           
(Costing not less than everything.)

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The rainman gave me two clues: (and I, jumped right in) 1) A conversation overheard:   Walking down the street just before Christmas two people are discussing 'Inherent Vice' - the film! One says to the other, "No one thought anything by Pynchon could ever be made into a film ..." 2) Finite tilings:   Extending the edges of polygons generates tilings in which some regions are bounded and some are not but where the number of regions is finite. Two lines which are not parallel cross only once. These models do not require fastening but ¾" clips are useful during construction, as is carpenter's white (beige) glue at the outer crossings if you want them to last when handled (although they tend to stay together if left clipped for a day or two until the weave sets firmly in). Coffee stir-sticks only serve well up to 7-gons. After that they must be spliced which makes the models less pleasing (to me at least), less ... appealing. The 9-gon/nonagon/enneagon may be of particular interest to Bahá'ís in light of the new temple nearing completion in Chile. Also interesting in containing three triangles - equilateral triangles in the case of a regular nonagon.

3 7 1 +   6=3*2 4 9 1 +   8=4*2 5 16 1 + 5*1 +  10=5*2 6 19 1 + 6*1 +  12=6*2 7 29 1 + 7*1 +  14=7*2 8 33 1 + 16=8*2 +  16=8*2 9 46 1 + 27=9*3 +  18=9*2 10 51 1 + 30=10*3 + 20=10*2 11 67 1 + 44=11*4 + 22=11*2 12 73 1 + 48=12*4 + 24=12*2 13 92 1 + 65=13*5 + 26=13*2 14 xx 1 + xx=14*x + 28=14*2

Of course there must be a formula to get these numbers - but the squash is not equal to such a task anymore (if it ever was). The models can also be fun as frisbees - tossed at the wall they ... explode. Delightful! :-) These next few are examples of what I call flags, banners. What they are are variations on the minimum stable possibility - four struts - and worth remembering simply because they are limiting cases. I like 'em. I have one in the back window. My son, looking up from the lane, saw it there - and he likes it too. 3) "Fish-fingers and custard" (Amelia Pond): I could be wrong, there might've been three clues. The yam started six years ago - a volunteer sprout on the kitchen countertop as it was waiting to go into the soup. I bought a largeish rectangular pot to fit on the windowsill and stuck it in. It gets water from the aquarium and the odd flick of cigarette ash - and a few verses of 'Sisters of Mercy' once in a while (elas vão prendê-lo com amor que é gracioso e verde como um caule). At first it grew vine-wise: the topmost leader feeling around for something above it and when I put a stick there curling and climbing on up. Over the years it grew many times back and forth over the window but the climbing behaviour slowly reduced till in September a new leader began as a stationary clump. I thought this change meant impending death (truth be told) but as you can see it's still going. There are many cycles we normally know - day, month, season, year, sometimes longer (june bug flights, cicadas' singing &c.), human generations: brothers & sisters, parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, as well as age-groups in tribal cultures - and others we have stumbled upon scientifically - el niño/la niña, lunar (19 years) and solar (28 years), Milankovitch, glaciation, elemental geological cycles of carbon & phosphorous, ice ages and geological epochs. It's enough to imprint cyclic events into the central symmetry processing circuits, dominantly. There are Northrop Frye's modes. I can't remember if they repeat. Are there three or four? Or six? ... metonymic, hieroglyphic, hieratic, and demotic? (It has taken weeks of mental Aikido for these terms to float up out of the molasses murk.) Then ... Anne Tyng's historical spiral (which happens to be where this misbegotten string of thoughts actually began). Now, a spiral is somewhat but not strictly cyclic. More along the lines of comme ci, comme ça and que sera sera. Teilhard de Chardin's development from geology to the Noosphere isn't even a spiral - it's ... linear. Same goes for the entire myth-of-progress-and-human-perfectability shebang - straight line. Lines is one thing - first coming, second coming and eternity for the elect - but lines that end? Uh oh! Planets go approximately round and round, comets elliptically ... asteroids? Some of 'em end as shooting stars and some as craters don't they? Curved line with a full stop. Life has been evolving on the planet for four billion years or so (in a universe 13 billion years old - they say). The estimated planetary lifetime is twice that - about eight billion years (dependent upon a relatively local fusion reactor), but the planet itself goes on, or at least the matter in it does. Waddabout the Big Bang? Is it a BANG-whoosh-whoops-wheeze-BANG-whoosh-whoops-wheeze- sorta cosmic Model A kinda sorta thing? Or is it a k-k-k-crank-KAPOW and Riddley Walker's 1 Big 1, a single backfire? The natural macrocosm might be cyclic (even though folks like our Northrop will tell you that's just a metaphor, a fabrication, an artefact built for comfort not accuracy). A microcosm lifetime definitely isn't. It may have been a grave mistake to get so ... (what to call it?) 'involved' (?) in thinking about the environmental Armagedd-i-on catastrophe, even if it does mean extinction. Demonstrably better (by far) to indulge & pursue well-founded self-interest, cash for dental emergencies, megabucks even, blow-jobs at the ready, choice & flexibility ... mmmmmmm ... Easy to make a mistake. Easy to confuse & get things turned 'round backwards: vitiate (viciate) from latin 'vice': to render incomplete, imperfect, or faulty; to impair or spoil; to corrupt, deflower or violate; to render of no effect, invalidate either completely or in part (legal instrument or force); to render inconclusive or unsatisfactory (argument); to adulterate; to alter feloniously. enervate (a 'nerve' being first a sinew or tendon and only later an electrical canal): to cut the tendons of, to hamstring, hough (a horse); to emasculate; to weaken physically; to impair the strength of; to weaken mentally or morally; to destroy the capacity for vigorous effort of intellect or will; to destroy the force of (argument, testimony, &c.); to destroy the grounds of (doctrine, opinion); to render ineffectual (law, an authority, an opponent's efforts, etc.); to disparage the power or value of. For, say, vitalise and energise. If only: If only it were limited to the NSA & CIA, or even America, or even ... North America, or the 'western' elites, or ... or, or. But it's the whole fricken' shebang, the whole shitteree. I think this is not misogyny at all but (has become) misanthropy, a more general kind of (mixed) feeling having nothing at all to do with sex. "The answer is that these imbecile words are euphemisms for manic-depressive highs and lows, and that anyone who struggles for sanity avoids both." I had this message from him years ago. You'd think I might've heard it by now eh? Mind you, he was talking about 'some contemporary situation' and while this environmental catastrophe is definitely a situation, and contemporary in a way, it is not necessarily a cycle and so perhaps ... different. UNFCCC UNFCUC UNFUCT UNFCOF! [Realizing that it may not be cyclic feels something like the first reading of A.S. Byatt's 'Ragnarok', mixed with the horror of watching a Twilight Zone episode 'How To Serve Man' in 1962 (when TV was still new) and she calls to him as he walks up the ramp into the spaceship, "It's a cook book!" It used to be received wisdom that adolescents (and then twenty- and then thirty-somethings) are immortal, an almost sentimental philosophy. Now death is officially become a professional event, put so far away that the notion of actual or 'real' mortality is (even as observed here a year ago) interpreted as obscenity. The tune emerges over several weeks, almost a month (believe it or not), at first just a rhythm - dah dah dum dum dah dah dum dum dah dah-dah-dah dah-dah-dah dah dum dum - which resolves with excruciating slowness into 'Christmas in Killarney'. At first I think it's to do with 'Brigadoon', download and watch the film, a week spent just in that. Brigadoon, 1954, with an already complete myth of New York City as poisonous & effectively defunct. Someone who actually knows anything, say, Noam Chomsky or Jakke Straw, might laugh and say "1954!? It was well before that you silly wanker!" I'm afraid the human world is ending. Easy enough to say, "Well, your world certainly is," and leave it at that. Maybe add, "Good riddance!" or better still ... shunning & silence with no comeback, and good of a certain kind to be had in schadenfreude (taking malicious pleasure in the misfortune of others). A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. I am increasingly overwhelmed by grief and particularly (I think, because) I am grieving alone. ]

 
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