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Containing the exordium, &c.

The various accidents which befel a very worthy couple after their uniting in the state of matrimony will be the subject of the following history. The distresses which they waded through were some of them so exquisite, and the incidents which produced these so extraordinary, that they seemed to require not only the utmost malice, but the utmost invention, which superstition hath ever attributed to Fortune: though whether any such being interfered in the case, or, indeed, whether there be any such being in the universe, is a matter which I by no means presume to determine in the affirmative. To speak a bold truth, I am, after much mature deliberation, inclined to suspect that the public voice hath, in all ages, done much injustice to Fortune, and hath convicted her of many facts in which she had not the least concern. I question much whether we may not, by natural means, account for the success of knaves, the calamities of fools, with all the miseries in which men of sense sometimes involve themselves, by quitting the directions of Prudence, and following the blind guidance of a predominant passion; in short, for all the ordinary phenomena which are imputed to Fortune; whom, perhaps, men accuse with no less absurdity in life, than a bad player complains of ill luck at the game of chess.

But if men are sometimes guilty of laying improper blame on this imaginary being, they are altogether as apt to make her amends by ascribing to her honours which she as little deserves. To retrieve the ill consequences of a foolish conduct, and by struggling manfully with distress to subdue it, is one of the noblest efforts of wisdom and virtue. Whoever, therefore, calls such a man fortunate, is guilty of no less impropriety in speech than he would be who should call the statuary or the poet fortunate who carved a Venus or who writ an Iliad.

Life may as properly be called an art as any other; and the great incidents in it are no more to be considered as mere accidents than the several members of a fine statue or a noble poem. The critics in all these are not content with seeing anything to be great without knowing why and how it came to be so. By examining carefully the several gradations which conduce to bring every model to perfection, we learn truly to know that science in which the model is formed: as histories of this kind, therefore, may properly be called models of human life, so, by observing minutely the several incidents which tend to the catastrophe or completion of the whole, and the minute causes whence those incidents are produced, we shall best be instructed in this most useful of all arts, which I call the art of life.

-- Henry Fielding, Amelia

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Against the idea of "Ruling Passions"

"It must be at least allowed that this ruling passion, antecedent to reason and observation, must have an object independent of human contrivance, for there can be no natural desire for artificial good. No man therefore can be born, in a moral sense, a lover of his country; for society, politically regulated, is a state of contradistinguished from a state of nature, and any attention to that coalition of interests which makes the happiness of a country, is possible only to those whom inquiry and reflection have enabled to comprehend it. 

This doctrine is in itself pernicious as well as false: its tendency is to produce the belief of a kind of moral predestination, or overruling principle which cannot be resisted; he that admits it, is prepared to comply with every desire that caprice or opportunity shall excite, and to flatter himself that he submits only to the lawful dominion of Nature, in obeying the resistless authority of his ruling passion." 

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"Time Will Tell" - Blood Orange

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Henri Bergson: Creative Evolution

‘If I want to mix a glass of sugar and water, I must, willy-nilly, wait until the sugar [dissolves]. This little fact is big with meaning. For here the time I have to wait is not the mathematical time which would apply equally well to the entire history of the material world, even if that history were spread out instantaneously in space. It coincides with my impatience, that is to say, with a certain portion of my own duration, which I cannot protract or contract as I like. It is no longer something thought, it is something lived.’ (Pages 9-10)

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#MURICA: a sound collage of Obama's Jan 28 address and Miley Cyrus's 2013 hit, We Can't Stop.

Q: Where are we going? A: The State of the Union vs. The State of our Union

oversaturation - american exceptionalism - party culture - self-glorification - recklessness

YOZEF is an independent music project by NYC-based producers Kate and Izzi Eberstadt. 

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Deeds are better than the hell of thinking and doubting.

Tagore, Sacrifice

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Excerpt from Nobility & Civility Essay

Part of what triggers Nietzsche's fear and hatred towards morality is that it feeds into what he believes to be a natural “instinct to obey.” (86) This why he continuously refers to morality as “clever and stupid:” it is at once reductive and a genius play on our desire to be directed, to relieve personal responsibility. What’s more, it is a way to avoid guilt; morality provides a predetermined code of actions, and a higher authority, such that culpability is automatically deferred from the actor. And his vision of what this leads to is very grim: “if we imagine this instinct ever advancing to its furthest excesses, in the end there will be nobody with independence or the ability to command.” (86) Ultimately, moral codes and the herd mentality boil down to a threat on intellectual freedom. To reclaim individual thought is to act correctly in Nietzchean terms.

If we were to take his advice, our plan of action navigating the contemporary sphere would necessitate an anti-authoritarian nonconformity. Rather than searching for morals in a vacuum, we would be better suited to critically engage in every decision-making process entirely separate from surrounding ideologies. And yet, his advice is prescriptive in and of itself: which is perhaps the strongest critique of Nietzsche’s philosophy. In his deconstruction of Good and Evil, Nietzsche implies his own brand of Good: analytical, skeptical, worldly, action-oriented. Are we not to question this, just as he questioned previous major modes of thought? And what “grounding” does this have, anyways?

Furthermore, what is the life that Nietzsche urges us to live? This is a serious question when considering his critique of ethics and moral action. In his attack on the autonomous herd of European culture, he lists a “religion of pity, in sympathy for whatever feels, lives, suffers” as one of its weaknesses. (91) Empathy for others, as an ideal or definition of “good,” is at odds with Nietzsche’s individualistic, hyper-rational urgency. And how does one even rationalize sympathy? Certainly it is not outwardly utilitarian or immediately beneficial to the individual actor. And yet, a lack of sympathy can easily lead to action far more dangerous consequences, for larger groups of people, than can a numbing or pacifying subscription to religion.

This aversion to sympathy is just as dangerous as an unchecked herd mentality; although Nietzsche may disagree. And this is because his end-goal is not “how to live,” but rather, how to activate the potential of “everything that could be bred from humanity” (92) – another implied ideal, another embedded hypocrisy. Surely there must be a way to recognize pluralism without favoring the individual over the collective, without creating a competitive system of interests, without sacrificing all connection to other humans? 

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A Brief History of "Slap The Bag"

First and foremost, the most credible procedure of events:

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slap_the_bag)

"One participant holds the bag at their eye level, while another bends down or kneels in front of the spigot. Next, the bag-holder opens the spigot while the drinker chugs as much of the wine as possible. Once they have reached their limit, they slap the side of the bag as forcefully as possible to indicate to the bag-holder that the spigot should be closed."

The fabled objective of the original game was "to attempt to slap the bag so hard that the person holding it would lose their grip and the bag would go sliding across the pavement," although one can never be sure about these things.

While the trusted scholars of Wikipedia have laid out the ground rules, the passage of time bore many varieties. Players over the years have proven that there are many opportunities for creativity within this classic game. 

For example, according to Urban Dictionary, "sometimes a countdown is involved for most time on the bag." To introduce competition is to shift the entire dynamic of the game - something to consider in these delicate matters. 

There is also timing & placement of the slap to contend with. Some slap it beforehand. Many swear by a mid-drink slap, whereas others stand by a punitive post-swig jab. There is the party who apparently believes that a slap is not enough and goes for the punch instead. While there is clearly much to be discussed here, let it be known that the general public agrees that one can never slap the bag too hard, as it is "virtually indestructible." 

Competition & timing are merely two examples of the plethora of possibilities within this seemingly simplistic tradition. And yet, they have the potential to alter the entire scope of the game - imagine playing alone versus playing on teams; revenge slapping versus triumphant slapping; etc. It should go without saying that every nuance speaks volumes for the players involved. 

Ultimately, when it comes to Slap the Bag, we are presented with choices. And these choices have meaning. The way one approaches The Game not only effects all of its participants, but also offers the ever-looming potential of reaching beyond itself to inspire spinoff varieties to come. And, if we choose to partake in this legendary tradition, we must consider the statement that we are making. 

I shall leave you with an example of the revealing nature of The Game: the rules of Slap the Bag, as dictated by StB legend Minho. As you read, consider his statement. But, more so, I hope this parting wisdom inspires you to embrace the transcendent universality of The Game, and the hope for Games to come...  

"The bag is a cruel entity. It has no filter and mercilessly mocks everyone involved. The bag summons Person A and tells him who he wants to shit on. Person A informs Person B of what the bag has said in a statement such as:

"The bag says you are a fat piece of trash worthy only of euthanasia in a gas chamber"

After the small rant is completed, it is Person B's obligation to Put The Bag In Its Place. 

This involves:

1. Slapping the bag

2. Drinking from the bag's spout*

*while others have the option of slapping the bag simultaneously. 

Person B has now inherited the bag. Repeat process with Person C." 

- Minho Kim

  The End

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The Hour of Nones / Vespers

None, or the Ninth Hour, is the fixed time of prayer in almost all liturgies, consisting mainly of psalms, usually 3 PM (the ninth hour of the day) 

Vespers is the evening prayer ~ evensong 

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Three Competing Arias - Kate Eberstadt

P: It always gets too complicated with people after a certain amount of time.  You spend so many hours, raking through their innermost psychic contours – childhood dreams, trigger words, the tiny scar under an eyebrow, a nervous twitch when it rains – until you get to a point where you could close your eyes and breathe them into existence. But the problem is – let me see how to explain this: all of this information belongs to someone that was, 1 second ago. And now there’s a new person in front of you, with one more second of experience. And maybe that was the second he found God. Or maybe that was the second that she decided she doesn’t have a favorite color. But the point is, that it’s impossible to really know someone because they’ve changed since you’ve gotten to know them. See what I mean? The more you get to know someone, the more they defy what you thought was their truth… the more they become a stranger to you…

But you. You’re almost a stranger, and yet I feel like I know you. I can’t explain it, but I think you feel it too. Like tonight, when we were standing outside in the cold with that weird group of people – we’re not even friends, how did that happen? – see, this is what I mean. I find myself becoming a satellite to situations that involve you, and I think you do it too – is that on purpose? We were smoking cigarettes in the freezing cold, orbiting. And that girl started saying ridiculous shit that no one else thought was stupid. Really trivial banal shit, I can’t even remember why it was so stupid but it just was. And all I had to do was look up – because you did too, at the same moment.  And in your eyes, I could see everything. You don’t even have to tell me what it is, where you’ve been or what you’ve seen – those childhood dreams or trigger words – because I feel like I saw everything else: everything that’s past that, everything that matters. And – I know it sounds weird – but I feel like it’s because you let me.

I just want to stay inside that moment - inside of your eyes, and you in mine, not a word or sound, just breathing you in.  

    L: We’ve done this so many times before. Come here. Please. Just listen.

We could fight. We could duke it out, stakes impossibly high for whatever you choose to nitpick on. And you’d push much harder than I would, so then I’d shut down, shut you out, which would piss you off even more, so you’d go out and do something that would absolutely crush me the next morning - don’t shake your head, you know exactly what I’m talking about. And we’d be back at square one again.

But let’s just not do that tonight, not while you’re here, please. I’m tired of the same circular arguments. We can’t ignore this anymore.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I did it. I don’t know why I did, or how it happened. It scares me. I don’t know who I am anymore.

But I know that you’ll keep fucking punishing me for it, rubbing my face in it, and that there is literally nothing I can do. And that every one of these stupid fights we have – over moviesor healthcare or whatever the fuck else we fight about – are really somehow just about it. I know that.

Your standards are insane. I’m a fucking human being. How can you live your life expecting all of the people around you to give and give, and never give anything yourself? You’ve fucked me over so many times – what about that thing with Matt?? Or with my computer? What the fuck was up with that??? You can be such a psychotic bitch, I’m surprised you haven’t been – wait! – no listen –I’m sorry – hold on – I didn’t mean that – don’t – please! -

I’m – I love you! I’m just – I love you so much that I can’t understand how we got here. And I know, I just know in the bottom of my heart that it can never be fixed.

But please, come here. Let me hold you. Just for now.

  J: I think I've been afraid to talk about it because talking about an Experience means that it's somehow over, not like a dream that could come back tonight or tomorrow. The cast of characters is set; the events are set; and what happened, happened, definitively. Though we can analyze and reorganize and change the narrative climax or whatever we do over and over again, the facts remain and cannot change. And something about this finality might make me sad.

So, to get into the nitty gritty of it:

That was the summer I fell in love with Diana.

No, that’s not true… I’m not even sure if that’s true... Love is a lot… I’m just not sure. I don’t know. It’s different.

It would be easy to say I started to “have feelings” for Diana the minute I met her,  but I feel like it’s inaccurate to call them “feelings” because that word has implications that belittle it all into some kind of romantic or hyper-sexualized bullshit. It was something more naïve than that -

It’s mostly that I can't describe how much I wanted to be her friend and just spend time around her. In her presence. It felt like being in First Grade again and having a crush on the girl who sits next to you. You're too young to really want something out of her. Your greatest wish is simply hoping that she feels this strange thing – let's call it Kablooga – towards you too.

But one of the problems with Kablooga is that it's really impossible to measure it all. In Psych class a few years ago, we had to draw graphs after gazing into a partner's eyes for 7 minutes. Our graphs measured how close or estranged from our partner we felt during the exercise. Afterwards, I had an existential crisis when I looked at my partner’s graph and looked at my own and saw how different they were. I realized, you can never share a mutual feeling, because even if the points fall at the exact same coordinates on the graph, the derivative is different…If you follow my point.

So I would never know if Diana really felt Kablooga about me. And even if she did, it wouldn't be the same one anyways. Because we’d be coming from different places, varying stages on this emotional roller coaster, and Kablooga would mean very different things to each of us. And it doesn't really matter if she did or not. Because now I know her, and I know all of the reasons that it wouldn’t work.

I miss her. God, how I miss being around her. But, most of all, I miss Kablooga.

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It's the fact that we do understand one another that I don't understand. If, intentionally, you put yourself completely outside everything, or one floor above what's going on, if you look at people as though they were part of a show and you yourself were being from another world looking down on what's happening there, then you wouldn't understand anything, words would be hollow, everything would be empty. You can get this feeling if you block your ears when you're watching people dancing. What are they doing? What could it possibly mean? Their movements are senseless. I write plays to express this feeling, this feeling of amazement.

Eugène Ionesco

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Morality in the Lais of Marie de France

Just fun to note that adultery is no moral concern for Marie de France. In "Guigemar," our hero and the lady's affair is not only success; it is aided by the forces of nature (the magic boat coming to both of their aid, etc.) Equitan & his lover's demise, which Marie reminds us is karmic recompense, is a result of their murderous thoughts and nothing else.

So, Medieval Romance (at least in this instance) would encourage us to believe that committing sins - or even hurting peoples' feelings - is ok, sometimes, against the Christian ethic. 

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"Our culture will bend over backwards to inject doubt into Dylan Farrow’s harrowing open letter about being sexually assaulted by Allen."

This is not related to school. But it is a story that has gotten under my skin.

After Nicholas Kristoff published Dylan Farrow's open letter, detailing her first public account of childhood abuse by step-father figure Woody Allen, much of the resulting conversation has been critical or plain dismissive of Farrow, labeling her account anything from "brainwashed" to an unfortunate "misunderstanding." 

This article is the first one I've seen that elucidates the implications of (automatically, unthinkingly) jumping to the director's defense. 

Enjoy - 

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Medieval Romance: The Lais of Marie de France

There are several recurring motifs in the first three tales of The Lais of Marie de France. One I find fascinating is the direct possibility of death whilst in the throes of love. Or, at least, the threat of it. 

In both Equitan and Guigemar, our heroes fall desperately in love, and consequently use death as a rhetorical tactic to convince the beloved to comply. The cursed Guigemar experiences a great deal of pain synonymous with love at first sight ("the pain she caused reached deep into his heart"); he proceeds to inform her of the fatal consequences of her decision. "I am dying because of you; my heart is giving me great pain. If you are not willing to cure me, then it must all end in my death." (50) Equitan, who does not share this curse, is equally sure of his impending demise: "Do not let me die of you." (58) 

This manipulative tactic yields success in both cases; both heroines "give their bodies" and their hearts to their respective suitors. 

In a modern context, this threat is obviously hyperbolic. Marie de France's eloquent voice reveals perspective and, though subtle, an awareness of the general ridiculousness of her subjects. But I wonder if these threats were not meant to be so outrageous. Were there contemporaneous beliefs that love could kill an untreated victim? Or are these threats pointing to the more extreme (but also more realistic) threat of suicide? 

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"Columba Aspexit, sequence for St. Maximinus" - Hildegard Von Bingen

Hildegard Von Bingen, Benedictine abbess, composed this chant in the 12th century. It was around this time that monks were beginning to devise a system of transcribing music so that their cannon could be spread throughout the continent.

St. Maximin, as legend has it, was an early Christian disciple who sailed to France with Mary Magdalene after the Resurrection; he was the patron saint of a Benedictine monastery in Trier.

A melisma is the singing of a single syllable of text while moving between several different notes in succession. Many gregorian chants such as this consist mostly of melismas, with changes in syllable noted in the staff music. 

The drone, or sustained background note, is sustained in this recreation, although this instrumentation was not written in the original sheet music. As a result, music scholars would still call this piece monophonic. 

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Life in the 18th Century - setting the stage for Henry Fielding

Social climate:

Enlightenment - Kant's What is Enlightenment?

political upheaval - French revolution, Rousseau, rejection of absolute monarchy / divine right

birth of democracy - development of legislation

beginnings of "civil rights"

decorum / strict social hierarchy

distance from religion, logical legitimation demanded by people instead of spiritual

new understanding of the right to property (Locke) and the existence of property in society as a social marker

imperialism

birth of what we understand as a "middle class" (non-inherited wealth)

Mozart's century; early Beethoven; light, height, and harmony - counterpoint - rules

Literary climate:

Henry Fielding - Tom Jones (1749)

Samuel Richardson - Pamela (1740)

Voltaire - Candide (1759)

Samuel Johnson - The Dictionary

Daniel Defoe - Robinson Crusoe (1719)

Laurence Stern - Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy (1759) [first truly experimental take on the novel]

Mary Wollstonecraft - A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792)

Jonathan Swift - Gulliver's Travels (1726)

the birth of what we have come to call the novel

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"She percieved a prodigious Difference; which eld her again into Reflections on the Unaccountableness of Men's Fancies, who still prefer the last Conquest, only because it was the last."

Eliza Haywood, Fantomina (1725)