<![CDATA[Yale economist Robert Shiller has an idea for stimulating economic growth, the creation of "trills," national GDP bills that would allow investment in economic growth in the latest Harvard Business Review. I did a hour-long interview with Shiller a few years back on a related topic. Still a great listen, here]]>
<![CDATA["Had I not enjoyed independent means I would not have been on a good footing with my times. First of all, I would not have found the time to write large, thematically unified works; my efforts would have been like everyone else's. It would have been bits and pieces — then one is read." — Soren Kierkegaard, in his journal.
There is a time for pamphleteering, but also a need for rigor of thought that doesn’t fit within a slogan. We’re living in times that accommodate, and require, both modes of thought if we are to use this crisis as a foundation for change. Our launch pad.
Last night, I attended the final performance of Edgewood Jr. High’s performance of “Beauty and the Beast” and, after, the cast gathering at Dairy Queen. While waiting in line for Blizzards, my daughter, Genny, who played both the Hag and Marguerite, and her friend Kendra (the Enchanted Mirror) asked if I’d ever acted.
“Did you play a tree?” They asked in the way two 15-year-olds fresh from theatrical triumph ask.
“I was the judge in ‘Inherit The Wind'” did not impress them.
“I did play Lincoln’s severed arm,” which got the kind of reaction I was looking for, but they insisted I made that up. Here then, the proof, in the form of an excerpt discussing the role from Wilford’s Dramaturgical Catalog, the 1927 edition:
The arm, dislodged from the President by the shot that killed him, goes in search of Lincoln’s assassin. The role of the severed arm is a difficult one the play, as all it’s emotive powers are limited to gestures that can easily descend into the pathetic or comical, such as, for instance, the “startled revulsion” expressed by the hand of Lincoln’s severed arm when, dragging itself Southward on the trail of Jefferson Davis, whom the arm mistakenly believes commissioned the killing, encounters the rotted remains of soldiers North and South in the mud it struggles through near Antietam. While the hand cannot see the gore into which it is sunk up to it’s knuckles, it can feel it and is repulsed by the physicality of the war’s bloody cost, as well as despairing, because of Davis’ escape across the Virginia border. The actor portraying the hand must react without theatrics–recoiling from the remains of boy soldiers, horrified, but not dramatically raising itself palm opened, questioning and ready to grasp at whatever answer the gods may deliver, nor by shaking a fist or flipping the bird at empty fate. Lincoln’s hand, as with The Dane, challenges the actor’s emotionality to come forth in silence, behind the dialogue, in quiescent action. It is not a part to be shrugged on like a costume, the performer must become Lincoln’s arm, as well as his gentle and determined spirit, ever separated now from life.
Location:Hilltop Ln SW,Lakewood,United States
<![CDATA[When composing, I prefer to think with my fingers, which let's me edit with my mind. The symbols are already abstracted from what my mind deals with, so it makes sense to think of the letters and words as bits of clay to twist and shape in my hands.
<![CDATA[First, anyone who seriously intends to become a philosopher must "once in his life" withdraw into himself and attempt, within himself, to overthrow and build anew all the sciences that, up to then, he has been accepting.
Edmund Husserl, Cartesian Meditations
<![CDATA[It is standard Enlightenment thinking to assume the universe itself is reasonable. To get to the core of experience, to understand our experience of reality, we'll need to abandon the idea that the universe is rational. It is a universe without reason that contains reason. Just as physics has arrived at quantum understandings that defy consistent reasoned explanation, consciousness research will have to abandon a psychophysics that makes rational sense. But we’re still at a stage of science analogous to Newton’s probing in his eye socket with a knitting needle to grasp the foundations of optics.